


A Clarke/Octavia/Lexa Series (title to be determined)

by ReishaTerrin



Series: The Sky Princess, her Grounder Warrior and their Commander [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Fluff, Heroes T.V Series Elements, Lost T.V Series Elements, Multi, Polyamory, Smut, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6720865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReishaTerrin/pseuds/ReishaTerrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four hundred and ninety seven years have passed since nuclear war destroyed the Earth's surface, leaving it uninhabitable. The remaining human population was forced to leave their home on the ground to make a new one in space. Now, that home is dying and they have no choice but to return to the ground in the hopes of saving the lives of the people on the Ark.  Nearly eighteen year-old Clarke Griffin and ninety-nine other delinquents are sent to Earth. However the are complication and the 100 are separated upon the return. With no way to communicate the Ark and those without the use of their abilities, Clarke must find a way to keep her group alive and find the others. However, the ground is mysterious. There are other people on the ground- Grounders, mountain men, and other people never thought to be seen or heard from again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. I thank my handsome friend Perry, who does most of my Perry related scenes. He is delightful. He is the only character (fic wise) that I own.
> 
> A/N: Well, I binged watched the 100… then after that watched Lost. You know how you watch so much of something, it messes with your dreams? Well that’s where this has come from. Don’t kill me. This is my version of the 100, with some Lost inspiring elements and laced with fantasy crap because, I don’t not do the fantasy. Anyways, I hope it’s good or to your liking.
> 
> A/N 2: I’ve decided to get a little more creative with the crash. And… who doesn't like flash backs? Huzzah! I’ll try not to make them to long like i’ve been known to do...
> 
> A/N 3: I took out the Preview chapter because well, this fic is officially on going.

* * *

 

Clarke woke with a gasp and her heart pounding in her chest. Her vision spun in a sickening pool of colors: blurry spots of blue, green, and brown. It was like looking into a magic eye puzzle, the mass of colors making her dizzy until eventually her eyes began to focus and the bigger, horrifying picture could be seen.

The first thing she was fully aware of was that she was hanging upside down, staring downward at a row of trees, a nearly solid wall of green and brown. Light was almost impenetrable through their leaves. Staring upward towards the ground it came as a realization that she’d somehow ended up suspended by her harness, and a quick look was enough to see that the release had been smashed and warped together. She cursed her luck and the damned harness. The same design that was supposed to keep her safe now trapped her and made it nearly impossible to break free on her own. She felt herself grow dizzy from the blood flow to her head and the swaying back and forth made her nauseous. The stench of burned rubber and the plastic of her harness didn’t help things and turned her stomach painfully.

She couldn’t think clearly like this, but she knew she needed to right herself somehow. Going with the swaying she started swinging herself back and forth with outstretched arms hoping to grab hold of a tree branch or anything. The swinging threatened to make her vomit and her teeth clenched when the rough bark scraped across her arm. It felt like her arms were on fire but the pain helped her focus.

_Clarke,_ the thought rang in her mind as she slowed to gentle swaying again. _My name is Clarke Griffin and I am NOT going to die hanging in a damn tree!_

Stretching for her back pocket, she felt the handle of her knife, just out of reach at her angle. If only she could stretch far enough. She looked towards the ground. Then what? Logically there were two options. A) Upon cutting herself free, she would fall and land on her back. It would knock the wind out of her and possibly paralyze her if her spine was struck wrong. But at least she would be out of the tree. The best outcome would be getting away with only a bruised body. Or B) she would land headfirst into the ground, however far below and die instantly. Hopefully.

Of the two she preferred landing on her back.

Wiggling at the hips Clarke worked her knife into her fingers and caught it with an awkward jerk that strained her shoulders before it slipped too far. A small victory, but one that led her to the point of being able to tear the blade through the harness before her stomach dropped and she plummeted toward the ground. She threw her hands out, hoping to catch at something, anything that might slow her fall. Her hands closed on branches that broke skin and drew thin lines of blood, but nothing strong enough to lessen the force as she struck the earth, hard, on her stomach. She laid there, sucking the air back into her lungs until she could finally roll over on to her back.

God her entire being ached: her head pulsed with a terrible pain right behind her left eye.

How did she get here? Obviously not here on the ground, gasping for breath. She meant how did she wind up here?

Just hours ago she was on the Ark.

She was in her cell counting down the days till her eighteenth birthday and they’d come get her to be floated for being—

_“—a traitor. Like your father.” The Chancellor finished. Signalling the guardsmen that held her by the arms to take her way. Their grip tighten as she struggled to keep up. They gave her the occasional grim glare but stayed silent until they arrived at her prison cell, and unceremoniously shoved her back inside with the door sealing shut behind her._

_She kicked the door. A traitor? Was that really what the Chancellor had summoned her to his chambers for? Just to tell her, to remind her that she was a traitor? That and to rant furiously at her about his son, with accusations that she cared little for._

_She wasn't a traitor. The only thing she was doing was telling the truth._

_She wiped her mouth as she move towards the center of her cell and crouched down, closing her fingers around a bit of charcoal. She reached past the scene of a forest  and continued with the large interpretation of the moon in the background she had been working on. She smiled as she smudged the edges charcoal for the sky of her Earth to create the effect of clouds, before the doors of her cell once again swung open and the guardsmen reentered._

_“Prisoner 319, face the wall,” the guard ordered. She stood and obeyed, turning to face one of the drawing she’d drawn during her first days in solitary: a red scorpion, once one of the Earth's most lethal arachnids with a nasty temperament to match. A fitting portrait for her anger, for her hatred towards the Chancellor and the rest of the Ark. But the guards weren’t there to look at her art and they sure as hell weren’t there to see her. So why were they?_

_“What’s happening now? Does your Chancellor have more to say?” she snorted. She  expected to be pulled away any moment._

_“Quiet,” the guard answered. She frowned. Being kept in the dark was never something that appealed to her, even if she was a prisoner. The guard turned her and she locked eyes with him; it was the same guard she had attacked before they sent her to solitary. She could see the faint scar lines down his cheeks where her fingers had clawed. “Hold out your arm.”_

_She shook her head. “No! It’s not my time yet,” she said, more angry than she thought she’d be. “I don’t turn eighteen for another month!” She looked over to the second guard, shifting his weight from side to side. He was younger and his uniform hung loosely around his frame with the badge on the wrong side of his chest, all the signs of a recent recruit. He straightened his stance when he caught her looking._

_“Hold out your arms.” he repeated. His voice cracking and with it any authority he was trying to present disappeared. He reached, rather fumbled, into his back pocket, removed his shock baton and extended it to its full length. She’d heard the electrical charge as it powered up. She reared back._

_“No, no! Get away from me! I’m not eighteen yet!” she shouted. “My mother. Where’s my mother? I want to see Abby Griffin!”_

_“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary. Your watch,” the first guard motioned to her wrist. She instinctively tried to shield it from them._

_“No, it was my father's.”_

_“Take it off.”_

_“No.”_

_“I said take it off!”_

_“No!”_

_The smallest of the two lunged forward and grabbed at her. Clarke turned, slipped around him and made for the door. When the other blocked her path, she rose her leg and kicked him square in the chest, knocking him against the back wall. The force took both her and the guard by surprise, but she slipped past him and went through the door leading into the hall._

_She stared in shock at the scene before her: the other delinquents were being released from the Skybox too. Forcibly escorted out of their cells._

_‘What’s going on?’ she wondered. Peering over the railing she saw guardsman on the level below her, dragging a girl no more than twelve years old by her pigtails. Clarke bit her lower lip. ‘How could they do this?’ Was time running out faster than they expected? Her mother would know. If only she could get to her, get to the infirmary, but with the amount of guardsmen? She contemplated on jumping over the railing then looked at the underside of her wrist. She’d probably break something on the way down since she still had her limiter chip activated._

_“Prisoner 319!” The guardsman shouted, stalking out of her cell with his face twisted in anger. She cursed herself. She needed to stay focused. Moving along the rails, past a guard who wrestled a juvenile who had somehow gotten his hands on the guard’s shock baton and was in the process of shocking another guard, and then swung her legs over the railing and let herself drop._

_The Guards shouted when she fell. Clark landed on her back, nearly knocking the air out of her. She groaned. Then from God knows where, a guard suddenly appeared in front of her, slipped an arm around her waist, and lifted her off the ground._

_“No!” Clarke gasped. Thrashing and kicking her legs wildly, she brought her elbow up, smashing it into his nose. Blood sprayed, his grip around her waist slipped and She threw the guard over her shoulder. She quietly thanked her father for teaching her that._

_The commotion in the Skybox grew louder behind her. The guards were shouting and giving orders to use any kind of force against those fighting back. Glancing back she saw several of the Guardsmen gathered on the previous level, lining up their weapons with guns probably loaded with enough tranquilizer to put down a small bear, when across the SkyBox, her eyes caught the waving arms of a boy, motioning down to the next level below them before he swung his legs over and let himself drop._

_Clarke followed, landing better this time and sprinted around to the other end where there were less guardsmen and the boy was motioning her over._

_“Damn, I didn’t think you’d actually come over. I must be more enticing than freedom.” The boy, who was handsome with tanned skin, a soft face, and glasses grinned at her. She nearly skidded to a stop in front of him._

_“You were the one trying to get my attention,” she panted. He shrugged._

_“Well, I saw you making a break for it and between you or the guardsmen I figured, ‘Hey, why not?’ So where we heading?”_

_She blinked. “I need to find out what’s going on. They can’t float all of us.” she told him. The boy gave her a lazy salute and nodded. “There’s only one place that’ll have the information I need. I need to get to my mother's quarters.”_

_“Perry Broden at your service,” he said with a big stupid grin on his face that somehow eased her. He grabbed her hand and they slipped out the nearest door. She was vaguely aware of voices behind her, turned her head and—_

A boy came stumbling through the brush as she lay there. He froze when his eyes found her. She looked at him: _handsome, tanned skin, soft face and glasses._

_‘Perry...’_ she thought.

“Clarke!” he gasped. He limped over to where she was. “Damn girl, over here looking like Humpty Dumpty,” he gave her a weak smile and offered her a hand. She noticed that his right shoulder slacked further than his left arm. She rolled over slowly, painfully bringing herself to a stand. Silently, she gripped his elbow and shoved it upward and in without warning. They toppled over when his shoulder gave a loud, crunching _pop!_.

“Ow! Jeez! Warn a guy will ya?!”

“Ugh, sorry. I could have planned that better.” Clarke groaned.

Perry leaned up on his arms and looked down at her placidly. “Well I’m not complaining,” he said, “not with a pretty thing like you sitting here.”

“I think you might have a concussion.” She took his face between her hands and looked at his head. No outside injury.

“Whatever you say, you're the boss,” he shrugged. A look flickered across his face as he mouthed the word _‘boss’_ and a grin slowly split across it. “Boss, I like the ring of that.” he said. She could see the sky above his head, extremely blue through an opening of trees, smoke rising from the corner.

“Do you know what happened?” Her voice was thick. She knew the answer, but she had to ask. Had to be sure.

“We crashed,” he said softly. One of his arms squeezed around her waist.

“Yeah, I thought so.” she pushed off him, rolling to the side and up to her feet. “There’s smoke over there.”

“Where?”

Clarke pointed. “There.”

Perry turned and nodded at the column of smoke that twisted across the sky. “Best bet to say is that there are more survivors that way.” he said.

“It’s worth checking out–” a sudden faint scream cut her off. She turn quickly and heard it again, almost definitely coming from the direction of the smoke. “Come on!” she said to Perry, breaking into a run as the scream came yet again.

Together they crashed through the brush hurriedly, her heart pounding again and a sense of dread growing. She didn’t hear the scream anymore. A new sound now replaced it. An odd, frightening revving noise in the distance that sounded right out of some kind of horror movie. She just hoped she wouldn’t find anything like that when she got there.

Clarke stumbled into the clearing and what she found was more shocking than what her mind was prepared for and overshadowed any physical pain from her fall. Part of their ship—which must have been the middle— was smashed against a row of trees and one of its wings torn off and dug into the ground some distance away. The back of the ship was gone, torn off and lost, leaving the interior exposed. Clarke spotted the large dark lettering on its side, partly obscured by the crumpled metal and the sparks showering down on it from above, where an engine continued to spin wildly out of control.

It clearly read: ARK SHUTTLE.

“Someone help me! Please!” a desperate scream stole her attention. She whirled around and was moving before she fully realized it. Racing past the stumbling, confused people as quickly as her legs would carry, her foot caught a root and she plummeted forwards through the brush that remarkably landed her at the source of the screeching: a girl about her own age, her face splattered with mud as she leaned over a light-skinned boy whose leg bled dangerously free despite her frantic attempts to stem the flow.

“Stop, stop, stop! Please!” she sobbed. Her head jerked up, and eyes firmly locked on Clarke. “Please, please help me!” the girl screeched.

“Okay okay,” Clarke snapped to and crawled on her knees beside the girl, she tore off part of her shirt and ripped the boy’s pants open to examine the area, wiping away as much blood as she could until the wound was visible, It was such a deep cut, almost to his bone. The strip of cloth saturated deep red almost immediately.

The boy barely responded.

Clarke pressed her hands to the wound. “I need you to hold this. What happened?”

“I told him not to remove it, but he didn’t listen! It won’t stop! It won’t stop! Please you have to help him!”

She took the girl’s hands and firmly pressed them against the cloth, “Hold this,” she repeated and tore off another part of her shirt, immediately making a tourniquet and tying off the the boy's leg to stop the bleeding. The girl nodded and did as she was told.

Once satisfied that the tourniquet would hold, she reached for the girls hands again, so she could make sure the blood had stopped, but the girl held still with such an intense look of concentration on her face, as if nothing else mattered. Clarke had to place her hands on her shoulder before she looked at her.

Clarke saw the frightened look in her eyes. “What’s your name?” she asked as softly and soothingly as her tone could carry.  

“Harper.” she said softly.

Clarke nodded, putting her hand over Harper’s. She drew back nervously and slowly let go, peeling away the cloth. She couldn’t have been more relieved that it had slowed to a trickle. One last time, she immediately looked for the cleanest part of her shirt, _‘clean’_ becoming more of a relative term, and tore away another strip to wrap around the boy’s leg.

_“Bellamy?! Bellamy!”_ another girl’s voice caught her attention as she tightened the last knot. Clarke looked up and saw a girl, off in the distance sobbing and screeching the name, barely audible over the loud whirring of the engine. There were more like her. She looked out over the scene of panic and confusion: people shouting, running around, shoving one another and, unbelievably, even fighting over scattered cases and bags. Perry was among them. He came across a pair of boys fighting over a case and yanked one off the other before pushing both in the direction of a clearing farther off. Away from the fumes and smoke, there was a girl there, hunched over someone off to the side. From what Clarke could tell she was trying to perform CPR, and doing it wrong: the head wasn’t tilted back enough and the compressions were too fast and shallow.

She turned back to Harper and the boy, neither in any shape to move, especially not the boy. “Harper, we need to take him over there.” Clarke pointed towards the clearing. “I can treat him better over there and you’ll be out of harm's way.”

Harper nodded. As she did a boy with goggles stumbled into Clarke’s view, uninjured and slightly dazed.

“Hey!” she called out to him, once, then twice. By the third time he looked up at her and staggered over.

“We… we crashed… the shuttle plane crashed…” he said, his knees wobbled and there was a gray shoe in his hand. “I can’t… this is… Monty… we crashed.”

“Yeah I know.” Clarke said calmly, she turned back to Harper and the boy. “Take him over there and stay with him. You have to be careful not to make his injury worse. If he starts to vomit or bleed from the mouth, that means he's going into shock and I need you to get him on his side so he doesn’t choke. Then come and find me.” Seeing Harper nod, she faced this new boy again. “Help her get him to the clearing there, okay. I’ll look for your friend. Nod if you understand.”

He nodded slowly. “W-wait. What’s your name?”

Clarke looked at his face, lit by the faint light spilling down through the trees above. His eyes were wide and unfocused. He looked both at her and right through her, like she wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure if he really understood what was going on and where he was.

“Clarke!” she told him, and then she was running towards the clearing and that girl incorrectly doing CPR. Whether she didn’t know what she was doing or wasn’t in any shape to do it right. Clarke needed to stop her before she did more damage than help. Zigzagging around the still-falling debris she dropped to the ground besides the girl. Pain shot through her knees but it otherwise went ignored. “You have to tilt his head back!” Clarke said as she took over and laid her head on the unconscious boy’s chest. No heart beat. Not good. “What happened?”

She began compressions, followed by CPR and back again.

“I… I don’t know, he suddenly collapsed,” the girl said, then added, “And I know what I was doing, my mother’s a nurse.”  

“Yeah, well, you obviously aren’t. You should have taken closer notice of your mother.  Otherwise you would have known that you were just blowing air into his stomach,” Clarke snapped. She tilted his head back and blew into his mouth. “Come on, Come on!” She panted, pumping away again at the boy’s chest until, finally, he released a loud horrifying gasp and began coughing.

She laughed. An exclamation of relief. “That's it, big breaths.” She gave the boy a quick look over and ignored the glare from the other girl. Satisfied that nothing else was wrong, for the time being, she left  and moved on to a girl cradling a bloodied arm off to the side.

A familiar pattern had begun and she lost count of how many people she saw to. At some point she saw Harper and both boys arrive at the clearing and she waved briefly to them before turning back to her patient at that point: a large boy frantic over being unable to move his arm that hung limply at his side.

Clarke sighed and wiped her brow.

She could do this.

She would take care of them all.

* * *

  _Days on Earth: 0_

_Number of Survivors: Unknown_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 5-21-2016
> 
> Well here it is. The first chapter. The chapter that decided if i continue or not with this (psh you know i will.) Some more familar characters appear next chapter. 
> 
> I am sorry for my errors and mistakes. Still looking for more beta's. And I hope to see you all soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Grounder Warrior in training, Octavia Blake is given a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first. Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. I thank my handsome friend Perry, who does most of my Perry related scenes. (though he is not in this chapter) He is still delightful. The only Characters I do own, fic wise is Perry, Nyssa and Odessa.
> 
> A/N: So I always liked the idea of Octavia being a grounder and I love the idea that they have made her so. Because she is gorgeous as a warrior. So I decided to do it straight from the beginning. Anyway I hope you like it.

* * *

 

Octavia craned her neck searching for Nyssa, waiting at the proving fields like she was told. For an entire hour she waited, now she could hardly sit still. Too nervous and excited. The six others who were with her looked like they felt the same.

She looked towards the sky. It was actually sunny, much to her surprise. It was the wet months; which was usually a constant drizzle or, at best, never-ending in gray skies. Today however, the sky was nearly clear except for a  cloud or two lazily drifting by to block out the sun. Octavia preferred a day like this, over the constant loom of downpour and misery.

A slight breeze made the leaves flutter, carrying the pleasant scent of the trees. It was the perfect day. So where the hell was Nyssa? How could she not be there?  “She’ll show up at the last moment. You know that,” he whispered. Octavia nodded. Her eyes fell forward when a horn finally sounded.

Fifteen warriors stepped into the clearing ahead, seven men and six women, with them Indra, Chief of Tondc, and Odessa, leader of the Kripa. Each alone had a commanding presence, but Odessa stood out as the most fearsome at their middle. She was dressed in just a shirt tucked into leather breeches. Octavia never thought she’d see her so casually dressed. Not after Nyssa’s retelling of the last attempt on her life. Before it was natural that Odessa was sometimes seen in her mail, but it had become constant after that. If not as a mark of her status then at least as a cautionary measure for future attempts.

Indra said something to Odessa and a man behind them sputtered a laugh before they each turned to him, unamused. She said something else and the man fell silent. He looked uncomfortable as Odessa stepped further forward.

“Warriors to the center!” Odessa called.

“Good luck,” Lincoln whispered. Octavia started forward with the rest of them. She barely heard him over the sound of her beating heart, pumping blood to her ears. The small group of them had multiplied as soon at Odessa took to the clearing. Instead of just six the numbers had rounded up to twenty-two. Octavia clutched her sword, the center of her life the past year. This was it. This was the day she would demonstrate her skills.

“I’m not nervous.” she told herself. “This is what Nyssa and Lincoln have been training me for.” she just wished Nyssa was actually here.

Odessa gestured the first recruit forward. A boy, younger than Octavia. She looked the boy up and down for a moment. “Your challenge?” she asked. This was the part Octavia hated. The first challenger set the pace for all of them.

“I challenge single combat!” The boy shouted, his voice high. There it was, now she had to fight. And in single combat. More like single slaughter. One by one, they were going to be beaten. But oddly enough she felt excited. One of the warriors sounded a horn, and all twenty-two of them stepped before Odessa and sat on their knees.

Odessa grinned and gestured the first boy forward once more. He rose up and bowed his head in respect before running at her with a pitiful battlecry, really more of a squeak, that turned into a yelp as Odessa stepped left and struck out with her right fist. A hit to the side of his head sent him reeling and Odessa followed up by raising her leg to deliver a powerful kick that left him on the ground. The boy just laid there unmoving until a horn sounded, signalling the end of his challenge. Onlookers murmured for a moment before the boy finally roused himself. Once awkwardly back on his feet, he limped off the field in embarrassment.  Odessa looked after him, unimpressed as she waved for the next to approach.    

One by one it was the same. A bow of respect, a battle cry, and a couple of seconds of combat before each one took that single boot to the chest and laid there until the horn released them from the field. Octavia didn’t understand. Each warrior attacked with a different tactic, but Odessa did the exact same three movements: sidestep left, one strike with her right fist, and a kick to the chest.

Odessa went through them like an unnatural force, fast and powerful, with no mercy even for the younger competitors and Octavia’s mind raced with thoughts. _Why didn’t they get back up after that kick?_ At the very least they could dodge it, they had to know it was coming after watching so many fall to it before.

The horn sounded once again. She was waved forward.

Like everyone before her,  she rose from her knees and bowed her head in respect. Instead of charging forward though she took a stance, drew her sword and raised one arm. Odessa arched a brow and smiled warmly, like she was greeting a lifelong friend instead of squaring off in combat.

It was hard. Harder than anything Octavia had ever done —because she never was one to hold still for very long— but she didn’t move.

“Remember your training my _presh strikon!_ ” Octavia looked up towards the others warriors and Nyssa met her eyes. She was standing besides Indra with a closed her fist over her chest. She must have snuck in line while no one was paying attention.

Odessa glared over her shoulder and the two sisters shared a look: Odessa’s irritation met by Nyssa’s innocent stare. She said something to Indra and the other woman narrowed her eyes in disbelief before both suddenly looked forward again. Octavia followed their eyes and realized Odessa had taken initiative, stepping towards her and striking out with her left fist. Octavia leaned back at the unexpected swing but it left her open as Odessa continued with her other fist.

The jagged edge of one of Odessa's rings was sharp against her brow and Octavia reeled back. A second later she brought her arms up and shoved hard against the kick she was expecting.

“Impressive.” Odessa grinned. Octavia blushed at the praise. “But your footwork...”

 _‘Don’t look. Damn it don’t look’_ —her gaze flickered down and Odessa’s other fist  connected with her gut, sending her to the ground. Octavia grunted and rolled over, rising to her feet again. _‘Stupid, I can’t believe I fell for that.’_

“Concentration.” Odessa motioned for her to continue.

Octavia feinted with her right fist and swung with her sword hand, taking Odessa by surprise, but she angled away from the blow and Octavia lunged forward. The blood oozing from her brow blurred the vision in her left eye as she swung her blade: left, right, towards the throat, and over her head. Odessa blocked and dodged each swing easily. Grabbing Octavia's arm she slammed a fist into the younger girls back, followed by an elbow into her face. Octavia tasted blood in her mouth, and she staggered uneasily until Odessa swept her feet out from under her, knocking the blade from Octavia’s grasp on her fall.

“Footwork.”

Octavia cried out and she rolled onto her knees. She spit on the ground and scrambled to her feet. She turned quickly to face Odessa and saw two of her. Wonderful, the pain from the last attack was making her see double. Octavia quickly threw a punch that went through the first Odessa, and in throwing a second one, it connected with a forearm for no real effect. She knew which one was real now and struck as quickly as she could, getting in three swings before she felt her leg being hooked out from under her once more. The grass gave way to the sky one last time and she hit the ground, crying out at the impact.

She felt sick.

She hurt.

She wanted to quit.

She rolled onto her side and struggled to her knees again; Nyssa was watching, she couldn’t just give up. Octavia saw a brief flicker of surprise in Odessa’s face as she pushed herself up. That was a small victory in itself, but then Odessa was coming towards her again.

A swift kick connected with her stomach and she yelped like a wounded animal before she felt her body go limp. This was it. She was done.

The horn sounded the end of their fight and Odessa stood over her, a smirk on her lips. “I can see why Nyssa is so fond of you, _presh strikon_.” Odessa said as she helped her up. “Perhaps you have some potential.”

“Your lack of faith in me is amazing.” Octavia groaned and then chuckled.

“My lack of faith is justified. Yet you proved yourself to me today. You may make a warrior of mine soon enough,” She retrieved Octavia’s sword and returned it to her, then ushered her off the field.  

Octavia limped away holding her stomach.

“You’re getting better.” Lincoln met her halfway and she balanced on his powerful shoulders.

Octavia ducked her head, smiled and said, “Only a little,” as she sat on a log in relief. She had never been so thankful that he was there. He was the only one who really accepted her as one to them in the past year. Aside from Nyssa of course. “I think I got lucky.

Lincoln's grin was wide. “You lasted the longest of the trainees. How did you manage that?” He tilted her head to the side and tenderly touched her brow.

Octavia laughed through her hiss. “I have a keen eye for paying attention when a pattern is happening.” she shrugged. “At least she didn’t yell at me this time.”

Lincoln chuckled in answer and drew a cloth from his pocket that he pressed to her bloodied mouth.

“It’s good when she yells, my Presh Strikon. It's just her way of saying you’re improving.” Octavia smiled at the voice and looked towards where it had come.

Nyssa. My god was she beautiful. She was lean and tall, her body strong. Her brown skin was nearly flawless and she glowed with the sun at her back. Octavia felt her face split into a decent smile as she stared at her. Not only was she beautiful, she had been Octavia’s best friend for the last three years and her mentor for two. Like Odessa she was without her armour and wore a dark top that fastened around her neck and a pair of trousers that tucked into her boots. Her sword, which was usually strapped to her back, was nowhere to be seen.

“How?”

“Do you remember when she wouldn't speak to you at all when you trained?” Nyssa knelt down and touched her cheek. Her hand was so warm and soothing. “And didn’t you notice that you were the only one she helped up?”

Octavia opened her mouth to say something, thought about, and grinned. It was true. Odessa hadn’t lifted her hand to a single other person.

“You did so well, I couldn’t be prouder.” Nyssa pressed her lips to her forehead, before pressing them softly to her lips. A simple gesture they often shared, too short to be considered a kiss, yet long enough to heat Octavia's cheeks.

“Not enough to be worthy.” Octavia fought to banish her blush and clenched her fists, instead focusing on the pain her body felt. “It’s been a year,” she whispered. It was embarrassing. Yes she did well today but the other trainees, most her age or younger were past the proving rituals and were already rising through the ranks of warrior training. But not Octavia. No. She was still training with wooden sword — though she'd used a real one in this fight —with the title of Nyssa’s precious little one hanging over her head. Where was the satisfaction in that?

“You will be. It takes more than trained combat to catch Odessa's eye. But you will.”

Octavia frowned. “Not if your sister doesn’t give me a chance to prove myself as one of you. it doesn’t—”

“Hush,” she hugged Octavia from the side. “You’ll see. Odessa will claim you as part of our clan. Just wait and see.”

“Maybe…”

Nyssa made a sound that sounded like a strange gurgle and took a breath. “Such a dull word. Sounds too much like ‘no’.”

“The other warriors, the ones younger than me…”

“What of them?”

“What are they doing? That I’m doing wrong?”

“They are born warriors _strikon._ ” Nyssa told her with the same tone she used when teaching the younger warriors. “It’s in their blood. They are trained to belong either to the _Heda,_ or the _Kripa_ Queen. They are _gona kom graun._ You’re different. You are _plangona kom skai._ The last child from the heavens in over seventeen years. You will be the greatest warrior to come. But you need patience.”

“She’s right. The Heda does not take warriors easily and those she does claim must first impress me.” The voice was cold and harsh in sound. Indra’s. “Nyssa speaks highly of you, child. And I can see why. Strength of spirit like yours is rare.” Indra said. “You are being guided well. You just need the patience.”

“Yes, Chief Indra.” Octavia said quietly. “Thank you.” she bowed her head.

“Will this one be joining us for the hunt? Or will she return to her village?” Indra asked.

Nyssa looked at her. “Would it be improper to ask strikon? Is your mother expecting you soon?”

Octavia groaned, dreadfully looking to the sky. Her mother! Damn it, she had forgotten all about her! Oh how she could see her face now; narrowed eyes, pursed lips, arms tightly crossed and the way her right brow would be slightly raised. Oh she was going to be furious! Octavia was still healing from the last injuries. She had to bring something home, a peace offering. Rabbits. Her mother loved rabbits. She stood, dizzy and unsteady. An unpleasant sensation coiled around her stomach and she found herself gasping painfully, gulping down as much air as she could in the hope that she wouldn’t vomit. She wondered if it were possible for her stomach to rupture from such a beating Odessa had given her.

“What are we hunting?” She asked in between breaths. Octavia had come to love hunting. sure she was terrible at it: loud, clumsy, missing her mark every time —Nyssa sure enjoyed that— but she loved hunting and she was definitely getting better. Probably. Maybe. Well she hoped so.

Nyssa smiled. “Wild pigs were sighted a couple of miles to the north. We need the meat.”

Octavia slowly rose to her feet. Wild pigs? Oh yeah, so much better than rabbits. “Hell yeah. Count me in.”

 

❖

 

Hunting was not as thrilling as she remembered. At least when it came to tracking. For nearly an hour Octavia followed both Nyssa and Indra while Lincoln tracked for them. All the while her stomach continued to flip with uneasy questions. _‘What if she wasn’t good enough?’ ‘What if Odessa wasn’t as impressed as she looked?’ ‘What if she DID choose her as a warrior?’ ‘Would it be because she earned it or because Nyssa adored her so?’_ There were too many what if’s for her liking.

She pictured herself working in the parlor with her mother, sewing clothing and selling herbs from the gardens while Nyssa fought for Odessa or on rare occasions, went to battle for the Heda and returned with a glorious victory. If she was lucky and didn’t die of embarrassment, she’d live a simple life.

Maybe she'd marry some warrior who took pity on her. That would no doubt make her mother happy.

Octavia sighed and shook her head. No. She would not be anything other than a warrior. She’d be part of the Kripa and she would rest easier knowing that they would protect her mother. She sighed again, a weak pathetic sound. It must have been so unlike her because Nyssa stopped and turned to her.

“I know that look strikon. Why are you so nervous. You’ve killed pigs before.” she said, though the smirk on her face told Octavia something entirely different. “You worry too much strikon. Odessa always chooses wisely.”

“Why can’t you choose?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. Nyssa was not the leader of the Kripa. She was a princess it came to the title. Odessa was the queen.

“I could.” Nyssa said stepping over several stones. “But would you really be satisfied with the acceptance of someone you already have?” she asked.

Octavia shook her head. Of course she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t have been the same. Even now, she could hear the other warriors whispering behind her back: _‘She's Nyssa’s bear cub.’_ or _‘She didn’t earn her place here.’_ and of course, _‘Why should we allow traitors among our ranks? Look at what their own people did to them.’_

Octavia growled in frustration and trudged forward on the narrow path ahead of them. The sun peered brightly through the trees as time progressed. She tied her hair up to keep it from bouncing around her shoulders and face as she picked up her pace and broke into a full run; grabbing Lincoln's hunting bow and an arrow as she passed. Nyssa barked out a laugh as she went.

Octavia grinned as she heard it. She knew this area well enough, to be certain there was only one place wild pigs would go this far north. The sun warmed her skin while the air rushed against her neck and shoulders. She pumped her legs and arms faster until her feet only touched the ground for an instant before rising again and everything was muffled by the sound of the wind whistling past her. She relished in the feeling of warmth that spread into her muscles and the rhythmic sound of her steps as she watched everything rush past. Those moments that neither of her feet were touching the ground felt like she was flying. She leapt over a fallen trunk and slid down on her knee behind some brush.

She knew it. There they were, three fat, healthy pigs. “I’ll get one in one shot...” she whispered. In some measure this was sure to impress Chief Indra.

Octavia licked her lips, took careful aim with her bow, nocked an arrow and—

A loud roaring came from overhead. It was such an horrid sound that it caused her to cry out and send her arrow wobbling off into the brush and scattered the pigs.

Octavia jerked her head up. In the sky was some kind of flying vessel. It passed overhead and she scrambled to follow it through an opening of trees, watching as it broke apart. It wasn't long until she heard footsteps behind her and then voices.

“What was that?” Indra demanded.

“ _Maunon?_  ” Nyssa answered. “Could they be attacking again?”

“No,” Octavia murmured. No it wasn’t them. Mount Weather never attacked from the sky like this. They didn’t have the resources. Or so her mother had said. But this? She had seen that before. Well not the exact same thing but something similar. “It's a space shuttle.” she said in awe. She watched where the end of it spiraled off into the distance. The front was in the are just a few moments longer until it began to drop, pieces of it coming loose as it did. “Well it was. But you can bet the _Maunon_ have seen it.”

“How do you know this?” Indra demanded once more. “These are your people?”

“Yes,” Odessa answered. She emerged from the trees, a hand upon the bark of one. “She is the last child from the sky and the greatest warrior to come,” she said and she looked at Nyssa. “Did you see where end landed?”

Nyssa nodded. “Within the Azgeda borders. They’ll be on the march within days.” She was looking at Octavia, who was looking at Odessa. “There might be survivors.”

“And the front, within vicinity of TonDc.” Indra said, she too was looking at the young brunette.

Odessa nodded. “Go now, Nyssa. Take the horses. You can make in in half a day if you ride fast. Lure them away from Azgeda borders and make sure they stay away.”

Nyssa nodded.  

Octavia tore her gaze away from Odessa and looked at her mentor. “I’ll go with yo—”

“No,” Odessa approached her. With a strong hand she grabbed her jaw, piercing Octavia’s flesh with sharp nails that slid beneath her skin with ease. “You’re people, they tell tales of your world in the sky, don’t they?”

Octavia winced and nodded under the harsh glare.

“You’re mother told me of them once. Of why she and you were condemned. For such a petty crime. She told me of many more like it. You know them?”

Octavia nodded again.  

“Good. From this moment on, Okteivia kom Kripas, you belong to me.”

Octavia gasped. “I belong to… I’m… Okteivia kom Kripas…?” She didn’t quite understand the words, but as Odessa let go of her face, she thought about how they made her heart beat wildly in her chest nonetheless.

“I don't care what lies you have to spin. Say what you will to get close to them. Come up with an adequate story if they ask. Make them trust you. Make them think you’re one of them.” She looked to Indra. “And, get involved if Trikru makes a strike, do whatever it takes to make them believe you’re one of them.”

“How dare you!” Indra snarled. “This child will stay within her village and await orders of the Commander!”

Odessa grinned a cold and violent grin. “She belongs to me. For the next year she is mine. And _I_ do not answer to your Heda. You may take the warriors you have claimed, but you have no power of those who belong to me. I suggest you tell your Heda, of the mission I’ve given this new warrior.”

Indra scowled. She said a few words Octavia didn’t quite catch and was off right away. Octavia watched her go before her eyes drifted back to Odessa.

“Are you ready?” Odessa stared at her. She wasn’t. Recruits trained for an entire year before they were sent into the fields, only joining scouting or hunting parties. A mission? Well that was a whole new level entirely!

No. No, no, no, no! She was not ready! She knew that!

Yet Octavia nodded nonetheless, because this was the moment she had been waiting for. “I’m ready.”

Odessa smiled. “Listen and learn," she wiped away the beads of blood that rolled down Octavia's cheeks. "And I want answers in three days time.”

“I need a ride,” Octavia said and nodded. “As close as you can get me.”

“You can make that ride within an hour or two.” Nyssa murmured. She had yet to have gone as previously ordered and Odessa glared her disappointment at being ignored.

“I know, but I’m going to need to be very convincing. That shuttle crashed right?" both sisters nodded. "So there are injuries. I need to be injured. One of you… " She looked between the both of them. "I don’t care which one of you it is... but one of you needs to thrash me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it. Chapter 2. 
> 
> I'm sorry for any errors. I tried to catch them all. Still need some Beta's or the chapter would have been up sooner. I am not.. well obviously not a grounder so i don't speak the language. Haha. But I did find a dictionary site for it and have been using that for any grounder related words.
> 
> Translations:  
> Presh strikon: Precious little one (small one)  
> Presh: Precious  
> Strikon: little one, small one  
> Heda: leader, commander, chief  
> Gonakru: Army, group of warriors  
> Kom: from, of, with  
> Graun: earth, ground, dirt  
> Plangona:warrior woman  
> Skai: Sky  
> Kripa: Demon  
> Maunon: Mountain men.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first few hours after the crash... Clarke meets a girl in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. I thank my handsome friend Perry, who does most of my Perry related scenes. He is delightful. He is the only character (fic wise) that I own.

* * *

The sun was high when the smoke began to thin and their group became less chaotic. Clarke had spent those hours tending to everyone she could. There weren't any other serious injuries, but supplies was scarce and she had to get creative with those who were in need; a twisted arm or two, dislocated limbs, and a few broken bones, all easily taken care of with torn jacket sleeves or pant legs for makeshift tourniquets and splints.

When she finished she spent several hours sorting through buried supplies, searching for the barest necessities of items. Most of it turned out to be ruined trash. There was less than there should have been for a stocked shuttle. What she did find was a packing bag, a lighter and a canteen of… something. It was full of a burgundy color liquid. She took the cap off and sniffed hesitantly.

“Nothing would survive that,” she choked and quickly put the cap back on. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and something else she couldn’t quite place. She put the canteen in a pack, zipped it shut, and moved on grimly. More than anything she had hoped to come across the medical kit. That red bag would have make things so much easier for them if she could find it. She found a girl no older than twelve rummaging through the wreckage, limping around. She went over to her. “Got bit of a limp there, can I take a look?”

The girl looked up, startled, and dropped whatever it was she had found. She scrambled for it as though her life depended on it but she never broke eye contact. With the company they kept, Clarke couldn’t blame her. “I just want to check your foot. I promise.” she said and held her hands up as a gesture of peace; she didn’t know where the idea came from but it felt right.

The girl hesitated for a moment and Clarke watched as her eyes scanned her up and down, as though she was hiding something. She slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Let’s get that shoe off alright?” Clarke smiled. Kneeling down, she gingerly took the girl’s foot and pulled at the shoe. With some slight resistance, it popped right off and she saw how swollen it was. She rotated the foot, stopping when the girl whimpered and tears welled up in her eyes. “Hey, you’ll be okay. What’s your name? My name is Clarke.”  

“I know who you are,” she replied quietly. “I’m Charlotte. Is it broken? Again? I broke my foot last year.”

“This foot?”

Charlotte nodded.

Clarke looked down at the foot and up again. “Well, I can’t tell until the swelling goes down but I’m pretty sure it's just a bad sprain. Try not to walk on it too much.” Actually she preferred it if she didn’t walk on it at all. With how swollen it was it would be a week or two before it was fully healed.

Charlotte nodded again and wiped her cheek, smearing blood across her face in the process. Clarke carefully took her face between her hands and looked at the bloodied area, discovering a shallow cut there. Nothing severe. It probably only started to bleed because she irritated the skin and the healing. She tore the cleanest part of Charlotte's sleeve, folded it, and pressed it to her cheek.

“Just till it stops bleeding, I’ll take another look at it later.” she said, unaware of the taller boy standing at her side until Charlotte looked up.

“No sign of Glass, you know, if you care.” Wells said.

Clarke’s jaw set immediately. She glared up into the eyes of her former-best friend. “I don’t need you making comments about me not caring about people, Wells. Glass can take care of herself.” she said, sure that the helpless-seeming blonde would quickly have anyone who crossed her crying for mercy in some painful hold. Not even the largest of sparring partners stood a chance against her.

“Not if she's injured. And while you’re playing doctor we could be doing something useful like finding the people who are missing.”

“Playing doctor?” She repeated dryly. She laughed bitterly, “So, now I’m playing doctor?”

“I didn’t mean it like th–”

“People are hurt. Their injuries come first. Or am I just supposed to leave them?”

“I didn’t say that.” Wells sighed and looked at her. “There are bigger things that need our attention. You don’t even have a proper medical case,” he looked to Charlotte and back again. “Sprained ankles and twisted arms can wait.”

“I don’t think so.” Clarke snapped.

“Don’t do this now. It’s going to be dark in a few hours, we should be collecting wood so that we can at least keep warm through the night and it’ll be easier if everyone able helps. With the seriously hurt out of the way the rest can wait until we have a fire going. In the morning we head to Mount Weather. End of discussion.”

She stared at him,  irritation coiling around her stomach at the way he spoke to her. Just like the self-righteous guardsmen. “Last I checked I was the one with proper medical training between the two of us. Mount Weather can wait until I say everyone is ready.”

“We can’t wait for them all. Carrying them will take too muc–”

“No one is being left behind.”

“Be reasonable. What if there’s radiation? We need to get to Mount Weather to treat it. We don’t know how long we’ll have until it kills us. And if it doesn't,” he held his wrist up, pointing to the thick metal bracelet. “We still need to communicate our people and let them know that we’re safe. I know you don’t like the idea but this is what needs to be done. Priorities, Clarke.”

“Wells, no one here likes us. We have no friends and suggesting we leave anyone behind is a shit way to make any.” she said. Wells looked surprised, probably with her language, though she couldn’t have cared less. From the corner of her eye watched Charlotte shuffle away from them with an uncomfortable look on her face.

Wells sighed. It was an annoying sound.

“Let's get something straight,” she continued. “You're in no position to be giving anyone orders. You’re not a guard here. You’re just another little shit who got himself arrested with the fantasy that I would forgive you for what you did to me. And do I really need to remind you that you don’t know where Mount Weather is? You’re just as much of a stranger in this place as the rest of us are. We could be on the wrong mountain for all you know.”

Wells’ eyes grew wide and he sputtered. “Wrong mountain?” He shook his head hard. “That’s not possible. Why would they send us to the wrong mountain?”

“We crashed here.” Clarke said a little more softly.” Who knows where we are. This place you want us to go? We could be looking at hours or days of hiking. And with the injured who knows how long that’d take.”

Wells looked down at his shoes, defeated “I’m just trying to help.” he muttered.

Clarke's face softened. “If you want to help then look for our supplies. Start gathering that wood and if you find anything I can use bring it to me,” she said, then turned before he could say anything more and walked away.

“Clarke, wait.” Charlotte's voice was tiny and soft. Clarke looked over to find her limping towards her. She placed something into her hand, and without a word, left as quickly as she came.

Clarke looked down at her hand. It was a sewing kit. She opened it and everything was there: needles, threads, a sharp pair of miniature scissors. It was perfect. She smiled, shoved the kit into her pocket and continued on her way down a nearby path, That led her away from the temporary place of rest and into the forest.

It was pretty.

Earth’s surface was not the dead wasteland they were told it was. The trees were thick with green leaves, capturing the sun's light. Every so often a breeze swept through, swirling the air with the scent of wood and grass around her. It was more beautiful than what she’d seen from pictures or videos. And it was better than anything she'd ever drawn or imagined. Much greener too. Though that was hardly surprising since the world had four hundred years to thrive without mankind; and it was better off for it. She shrugged free of her jacket, tied it around her waist, and then extended her arms. The heat gave her goosebumps as the warmth seeped into her skin and traveled up her arms, around her neck and face. She inhaled deeply and smiled, savoring the clean, unfiltered air, nothing like the air she’d spent nearly eighteen years consuming. It stirred up so many emotions that threatened to sweep her away.

She didn't go far. Just enough where she was able to see through the trees at the mountains in the distance and—

“Your back’s bleeding.”

Clarke whirled around so quickly that she tripped over her own legs and fell backwards with a thud. A stab of pain shot across her back as she hit the ground. She was aware of how sticky and wet her back felt when she sat up. Slowly pulling off her shirt, she looked over her left shoulder and saw the large gash running from the top and down her back. With all the commotion she hadn’t even noticed it. It didn't even hurt. “When did that happen?” she asked herself.

The girl who seemed to emerge from the trees walked towards her slowly, almost aimlessly through the brush. She had an dazed expression on her face, one she had seen all day.

_ She must have been thrown from the plane.  _ Clarke thought. There was a gash to her head with a steady stream of blood flowing out and a bruise to her left eye and cheek. Clarke went to her, sewing case in hand.

“You’re the one bleeding.” She motioned to her own forehead to show where. The girl touched the area and winced. “Here let me see,” she continued, motioning at a fallen log the girl was about to pass. The girl sat promptly, quiet and unsteady while Clarke gently pulled her hair aside to get a closer look. “It's not too bad. I can stitch this up right now. Is that okay?”

The girl nodded slowly. “Yeah, thanks.” she said quietly.

Clarke took the canteen from her pack and tipped a few drops onto the girl’s brow, discovering she had quite a mouth—she swore worse than most of the engineers at Mecha Station—as the liquid burned away the bacteria, hopefully. Removing the lighter from her back pocket, she held the needle in the flame until she felt it burn into her thumb and finger where she held it.

“It might hurt a little. Sorry.”

“Can’t be worse than falling out of the sky.” The girl said. Clarke looked down into greenish-blue eyes before they slid shut.

“At least you made it to the ground. I woke hanging upside down in a tree.” Clarke told her, biting her bottom lip when the girl flinched on the first few needle passes.

“That’s an improvement over being in a cell, that’s for damn sure.” the girl laughed softly, though Clarke could hear something odd in her voice. Maybe it was fear. She looked down. Again those greenish blue eyes looked at her. Clarke returned the stare with a tight smile. From her pocket she drew her knife and cut the end of her stitch work.  

“I’m done.” Clarke said. “You should be fine. I’ll remove the stitching in a couple of days. Anywhere else hurt?”

“The back of my head,” the girl said hesitantly. “I think a lump is forming.”

Clarke moved around her back and pushed her head forward, carefully parting the hair there. There was so much and it was so long in the back, she had a somewhat difficult time finding the lump, but she pressed her fingers hard against the area when she did.

The girl hissed. “Ow! Okay, you found it already...”

“Sorry,” she murmured. “That’ll be there for a while but you’ll be fine.”

“Great,” the girl ran her hands over her legs and sprang up, unsteadily passing a hand through her hair in the process. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Your back. You can't really leave it like that, can you?”

Clarke looked over her shoulder again and nodded. “I guess not. Doesn’t even hurt though.”

“Must be the adrenaline.” the nameless girl shrugged.  

“Have you ever used a needle? Like maybe you sewed something?”

“I… uhm…” she closed her eyes and nodded slowly, “Yeah, I used to help my mom patch stuff? You know, pants, shirts, the drapes in our quarters?”

Clarke smiled. “That’s perfect. It’s the same thing. Do you think you can do it?”

“What?” her eyes widened slightly. “Like sew your back?”

“It’s just like the drapes.” Clarke assured positively.   

“I don’t think that’s the same thing! My mom did most of the work and it was only small tears in the drapes and this… uh… th-this is like really gross,” there was an intake of breath before she continued speaking. “I might throw up on you.”

Clarke laughed shortly. “Please? I’d do it myself, but I can’t reach it. And you owe me one.”

“I owe you…” the girl hesitated for a moment. Clarke half- expected her to turn and run but then she nodded. “Alright.”

“Thanks.” she said, offering the girl the canteen. She gave Clarke an odd look. “For your hands and then the needle.” she explained, before she pulled her shirt over her head, casually dropping it to the side.

The girl nodded and thankfully was quick on the uptake in repeating the sterilization process. When she poured some of the brew on her wound, Clarke swore at the painful burn, but held still when she felt nervous fingers skim across her back. She couldn’t help the hiss when the needle made that first pass under her skin. It was odd. Definitely something she knew she’d never forget: being the patient rather than the doctor. She couldn't even remember the last time she’d had an injury that needed taking care of.

As the girl worked, Clarke tried her best to ignore the annoying tugging feeling and bit her lip when the thread dug into her flesh too tightly. She tried to focus her thoughts on the situation at hand. Why the 100 of them were sent to Earth. It still didn’t make any sense. She looked at her wrist where her wristband was sitting prettily, undamaged.

_ “It’s a vitals transponder. We were designing them before your arrest. It’ll track your vital signs, and gather the necessary information.” Her mother said in the same tone she used when teaching new medical staff. Clarke stared at her mother, speechless. She and Perry had come straight to her quarters after escaping the Skybox and the last thing she had expected was to find her mother waiting for them. At least she had been waiting for her; She hadn’t missed the look of surprise on her mother’s face when she saw Perry, even if she did try to hide it. “There isn’t time to tell you everything, but a hundred of you have been given another chance. A chance to save everyone here on the Ark.” Abby told her quickly. _

_ “To save everyone?” She repeated. She took the bracelet and turned it in her hand. While her mother moved across the room and retrieved a journal from a drawer. “Read entry 105.” _

_ Clarke had seen it probably a thousand times before. Her mother's special journal, Abby wrote in every night for as long as Clarke could remember: A procedure she performed, a grade Clarke earned, an award she received, and of course her personal thoughts: _

**_Journal 105 April 16th 18:00_ **

**_Today was uneventful. one surgery, and minor injuries from Mecha station. Raven Reyes came in again. This one is nosey, and rebellious. She reminds me of Clarke. I feel better knowing she will join them on the ground. If Clarke can meet with her, then there is hope for their survival. She and Raven will know what to do. Unfortunately, we can no longer wait. Tomorrow they will take 100 of them and they will be sent to the ground. I had hoped to see Clarke today. Jackson and I have found a way to deactivate their limiter chips without the need of extensive surgery, it requires a cooldown period of forty-eight hours however. I had hoped to deactivate Clarke's before the launch. It is key to her survival. But I was forbidden from seeing her again._ **

**_But I’m worried about sending_ ** **_the 100_ ** **_, her to the ground. Too many years have passed since the last attempt and from what we know, it was a failure._ **

_ “You’re sending us to the ground?” Clarke looked up, appalled. “Why would you do that?” _

_ “Dr. Lahari believes that all 100 of you are in perfect physical health for the journey.” Abby answered.   _

_ “What about the radiation? Wouldn’t that kill us?” she asked. _

_ “Under normal circumstances, I believe so.” _

_ “But?” Clarke set the journal down. _

_ “Jackson has a theory. He believes that because we’ve lived in space our bodies have adapted to solar radiation and the Earth will be survivable because of that.” _

_ She nodded slowly, looking one more to the bracelet. “Assuming there is anything left on its surface.” _

_ “We have to believe there is, Clarke.” _

_ “You're going off blind faith?” she nodded again, as if she didn’t quite believe it. She looked back at her mother's journal. “Who is Raven? I—”   _

“—think I’m gonna throw up on you.”

Clarke laughed a little. Despite herself she looked over her shoulder and into a green face. “Please don’t. Vomit isn’t sanitary.”

“How the hell do you get a cut this bad and not feel it?” the girl swallowed hard and loud.

“I guess when I got sucked out of the ship.” Clarke answered. Now that she thought about it, there had been a sort of pain when she lost Perry’s grip. Initially, she thought that she’d just hit the side of the ship before she was sucked out. And then hitting the trees, then falling out of the tree she’d been stuck in? How in the world had she not noticed it?

“You better keep talking or I’m losing what’s left of my breakfast.”

Again Clarke laughed. “Okay… well, it’s kind of annoying you know?”

“What is?”

“Everything? Everything we were told about the world.” She glanced around, at the trees, the ground and the sky. “Is it anything like you expected?”

“I don’t think it’s what anyone expected.”

“I’m an artist you know,” Clarke whispered, at that moment she thought about all the world's she’d drawn up in her cell.

“Oh yeah?” the girl snorted. “I don’t think that’s been a job profession for anything like that in last four-hundred years, you’re shit out of luck.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mmm, I guess.”Clarke said. “Still,” she looked down at her shoes, scuffing her feet through the dirt. “My interpretations were nothing like this. I kind of thought things would be bigger? In old documentaries, millions of years ago things were bigger. I thought that after four-hundred years without mankind… you know?”

The girl hummed. “I guess so? I dunno. What’d you draw?”  

“You know, stuff from the imagination?” She shrugged her good shoulder. “Worlds, stars, entire galaxies light years away from the Ark. I must have spent hours using up my supplies,” she shook her head, as if she couldn't believe herself. “I literally turned the walls of my prison cell into my canvas.” She looked up. “I probably would have gone insane if it weren't for my friend Thalia, she...”

The girl stopped stitching, fingers suddenly tense on Clarke’s back. “Was she on the… I mean, is she? ”

“She’s missing. Like the others.”

“How many are of us are there? How many survived?”

“Counting you, there’s Forty-nine of us. That just leaves fifty-one missing.”

“Right.” she muttered and said something that sounded like ‘ _ 100 then’  _ before she continued speaking. “I think I’m done. And honestly, I think I did the drapes less crooked. Gonna have an disgusting scar you can one day tell your grandchildren about. ”

Clarke laughed weakly. “As long as the wound is closed I don’t care how pretty it looks.”

“All badass with no fear to spare, huh? Gotta say, you're totally my type.” She put a little husk in her tone that Clarke ignored. “So, now what? Am I supposed to cover this with mud or something?”

Clarke fought the urge to snort, and her eyes drifted down to her exposed midriff and the remnants of her shirt.  “Strips of cloth would be ideal, but I’m running short on clothing.”

There was a sound, then Clarke heard the zip, the rustle of leather, and she felt the warmth of the girls jacket gingerly placed on her shoulders. “Here take this. An exposed back can't be too sanitary for the healing process.”

“Thanks,” Clarke said quietly. She carefully slipped the rest of the jacket on and zipped it.  _ It’s so incredibly warm. _ She thought, grateful that it soothed the pain in her back.

“So, now what? What do we do?”

“Getting to Mount Weather would be the obvious choice. I need real medicine, a sterile operating room, IVs, a full-body scanner, medical instruments. Without them I won’t be able to help anyone properly. But,” Clarke sighed. “without a map. I have no idea where the hell we are or where to begin.”

The girl stepped back around to Clarke's front. “So we're basically screwed?” She knelt down and again Clarke gently took her face to look at her stitching.

“I didn’t say that. I just need to… figured out what to do–”

Perry came barreling through the brush. A look of relief on his face as his eyes found her, as though they were long lost buddies.

“Hey, boss! You better get back over here. We got a problem brewing.”

* * *

_Days on Earth: 0_

_Number of Survivors: 49_

_Missing Survivors: 51_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know. Like these first few chapters are all day 0 of the crash. And I'm sure the flash backs seem pointless or not making sense but they come together like a puzzle. 
> 
> So this came pretty quickly. Thanks to my beta Sam. Need some more beta's still. I tried to catch all my mistakes but I'm sure there are still plenty. Please Leave comments and Kudos they fuel me! 
> 
> The next chapter will be a longer one. Like way longer oh my gosh! See ya all soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The aftermath of the crash has a few people tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. I thank my handsome friend Perry, who does most of my Perry related scenes. He is delightful. He is the only character (fic wise) that I own.

* * *

“What the hell is going on!?” Clarke shouted, raising her voice above the earnest shouting and ignored protests. At the innermost circle of the people who had gathered together at the field where she tended to their wounds, she watched Wells throw a boy over his shoulder as easily as tossing a sack to the ground. Even knowing nothing about the boy, Clarke knew he had no chance; Wells was one of the best fighters on the Ark. She pushed aside a girl when she reached the innermost area of the circle. Wells was sitting on the boy, beating him with without mercy. With people crowding around her to get away or tighten the circle, she couldn’t get closer and could only shout amongst them, “Wells! Stop it!”

To her surprise he did.

Wells stopped punching and whirled around. His eyes were wide with panic as he scanned the people around him. In that split second the punch came quick and he fell hard.

Clarke gasped.

“That was for my father!” The relatively slim boy shouted and scrambled to his feet with a triumphant look. Clarke recognized him: the brown hair and large pointed nose, it was the same boy she performed CPR on earlier. His name was John Murphy. “Get up!” He shouted and spit on the ground. He circled around Wells with a blood-stained smile as the crowd grew rowdier, the cheers now drowning out the protests. It was like a predator with its prey, toying with it before ending of its life.

“I think the little Prince needs some help getting on his feet.” Someone else shouted.

Clarke watched anxiously as Murphy waved his hand lazily and two boys, who seemed all too eager, each took a hold of Wells’ arms, pulled him upright and shoved him forward. He was met with another strike to the face from Murphy: a resounding crack to the jaw. Wells staggered back, but kept his balance. “And this is for the rest of us your father thinks are expendable!”

Murphy lined up his fist once more and threw his final strike. Clarke hastily shoved forward, only to be pushed back by a boy in a black beanie. Time seemed to move in slow motion. As she was shoved back, Murphy swung his fist, Wells fell downward and the punch missed. Wells suddenly pushed forward, his large arms wrapping around Murphy’s front and they both went to the ground. They wrestled one another and obscenities were thrown back and forth until Wells managed to roll on top of Murphy and proceeded with a series of blows to the boy's chest and his face.

When it was over the two eager boys from before pulled Wells off Murphy and Clarke pushed her way through the now quiet crowd. She crouched beside Murphy, elevating his head to look at the damage: a split lip, swelling eye, broken nose, and a whole lot of bruises. Wells had got in several good strikes. If she’d been anything but a doctor she might have been impressed.

But she wasn’t. She looked up angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Wells spat and wiped his mouth with the  back of his hand, “Ask him.” Clarke looked down at Murphy and arched a brow, waiting for what she knew was going to be an absolutely insane explanation.

“I guess he has a problem with how I do things.” Murphy mumbled, his voice was  nasally.

“You’re not doing anything, _that's_ the problem.” Wells snarled. “The rest of us are doing actual work and you can’t just sit on your ass and hoard everything. We’ll work faster if everyone _contributes_ , we need to pull together and not just think about ourselves.”

“Look at this, everybody. The Chancellor of Earth,” Murphy snorted. He immediately  groaned.

“You think that’s funny, John?” Wells shot back.

Murphy frowned. He rose instantly, knocking Clarke over in the process and stepped forward, unsteadily and grabbed Wells by the collar of his shirt. “What’d you call me?”

“Guys... ” Clarke warned, slowly rising. Perry placed himself in front of her protectively, and she wondered just when had he gotten there? Not that she wasn't thankful, she just didn't feel the need of his protection.

“What's the matter, John? Something about your name bother you?”

Murphy jerked forward with his fist raised once more and the movement was quick. Perry reached out, grabbed Murphy by the wrist and shoved him away.

Murphy fell backwards and two of his friends, at least Clarke assumed they were, flanked his side; fists raised and feet apart. The thinner of the two lunged first, striking out with both fists. Perry turned to the side as the boy’s momentum carried him too far and he reared back his elbow. He smashed it into the boy’s back and he fell to the ground with dead weight. The second boy shuffled around and attacked from behind. Once again Perry moved aside and this time he brought his foot up, tripped the larger boy and he rolled into the other.

“How about we settle down? We don’t need anymore people injured.” Perry said, the amusement in his tone was loud.

“You’re pretty good kid.” Murphy said. “But it’s easy to take down a couple of weaklings. Try your luck with me?”

“Both of you, stop it,” Clarke said. She looked at Murphy, unable to understand where all his energy had come from. Especially from such a nasty beating to his face, and the way he looked? It was as if one final shove would be the end of him. But there was such fire in his eyes and she worried for his well being. “Now is not the time for childish fighting,” she looked to Wells. “I don’t care what started this, but it’s over. For god's sakes we have to survive together.”

“Aren’t doctors supposed to have some kind of compassion for the injured or something?” Murphy said. He tenderly touched his nose and hissed. “Fuck…”

“Not when the injured are being stupid.” Clarke said, oddly calm. She looked to Murphy’s face, then to Wells bleeding fists and back again. “I didn’t spend hours tending to your injuries so you could knock each other around.”

“Relax princess.” someone said from the crowd. The same voice from before.

She turned slowly. “I won’t relax. Our supplies are still lost and there isn't any medicine. I can’t take care of your wounds, or the infections that come with them.”

“So we get a little sick? Big deal.” the voice said again at the end of a snort.

“A little sick would be the least of your problems.” She kept her composure. She told herself that they were children. They didn't understand. It didn't exactly help that they didn’t like her, but there was no point in feeding into their hostility either. They were children.

“I don’t know about you, being privileged and all. But some of us are angry.” another boy, gangly in appearance came forward. “And his father is to blame. So some of us let out a little steam and get a cut or two. So what?”

“So what?” Clarke stepped towards him and folded her arms. “The worse case scenario is that you get an infection that spreads into your bloodstream. And when that happens, you’ll suffer from sepsis, or as you say, you’ll get sick. Your body won’t get enough nutrients or oxygen,” she looked to Murphy and then Wells before returning her gaze to the boy who still had a face that said: _‘so what?’_  “Your body shuts down: organs fail, blood pressure drops and you go into septic shock. Which without proper treatment or medication…” Clarke shook her head. “You _will_ die. And it will be a _painful_ death.”

She and the boy stared at one another for a moment, until finally he dropped her gaze. She felt a little satisfied when he did.

“Alright, fine. Just keep him,” Murphy motioned to Wells, “out of my shit.”

“Fine.” Clarke replied. “Just as long as your ‘shit’ isn’t anything that I need or can be divided. Food, water, clothing. That goes to everyone. Medicine is mine. You can keep anything else–”

“Clarke?” Wells gasped.

“–but I will take what I need. Got it?” she negotiated. She and Murphy stared at one another for a long moment, until he wiped his nose with the cuff of his sleeve and sniffed. He made a motion with his head, spun on his feet quickly and began walking away and Clark hurried to fall in stride alongside him. Several other people followed, Wells among them..

Murphy led them back to the somewhat smoking wreck, around toward the back where a salvageable part of the parachutes was. When they reached it he pulled it back and lounged back on what were parts of the wreckage and motioned to the pile of hoarded items he at some point found the time to collect. “How this works is, you want something, you have to give something to trade.” He told her. She couldn’t believe it. There was already a black market and they hadn’t even been on the ground a day. People lined up right away and began trading nutrition packs for blankets, clothing for nutrition packs or taking what extra water stored they could. Charlotte was there. Cheek bandaged with a large rectangular patch and for a moment Clarke felt her heart soar.

Did someone find the medical kit? God she hoped so.

Charlotte gave her a tiny smiled before she stepped towards the pile, took two food packages and in return left him what she knew were cigarettes. She was off quickly. Murphy smiled and said, “For the Princess who undoubtedly saved my life? What’s mine is yours,” as a boy came forward. He gave Murphy a book which he surprisingly took and was exchanged both food and a sweater for.

“Technically you stole this stuff, so it's not yours.” The brunette chimed in, she reached down and took a lighter. “Always wanted one.”

“Hey, hey…” Murphy swept forward and snatched it from her fingers. “You like anyone else, except the princess here, need to trade for it. Think of it as a Distribution Center. There are rules.”

The girl snorted. “Yeah and I took what I wanted from there too,” she grabbed for the lighter. Murphy pulled back from her grasp and smirked. “Give it to me, or I am so kicking your ass.”

“Big talk little girl.” Murphy snorted. He lifted his hand before he jabbed two fingers into her forehead. Right against her stitches.

“Ow!” she jerked back. “Are you freaking insane, you psychopath?” She lunged forward. Perry caught her by the waist, lifted her off the ground and spun her around away from him, and again, Clarke wondered when he had shown up. The smirk on Murphy's face only grew wider.  

“Murphy,” Clarke said in exasperation.

“Alright alright,” he chortled, one hand raised, the other extending the lighter to the girl who Clarke turned towards to make sure he hadn’t ruined the work she did to her forehead. “Just this once though. No more of this free bullshit.” Murphy said. “Everyone buzz off! Trade is off!” he looked to Clarke when the crowd dispersed, unpleased. A flurry of snorts and angry grumbles rose up from them. Murphy motioned to the pile. “See anything you need?”

She didn’t and frowned. “Not yet. But I need any prescription medication you do find,” Clarke said. “Especially anything labeled with _"mycin"_ or _"cillin"_ at the end. I want. Those are antibiotics,” her voice trailed away when she realized Murphy wasn’t even looking at her. She snapped her fingers. “Got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” he said. “You two, he motioned towards two boys, both equally tall. “Get the princess what she needs.” he ordered. They obeyed and he smiled like he had done the impossible.

“Don’t strain yourself,” both Perry and the brunette girl muttered.

“Hows your face.” Clarke turned to Wells, who had been surprisingly quiet giving the fact that this black market had angered him in the first place. He gave her a sort of odd look. Surprised she cared maybe? But it was only the doctor part of her that did.

“I’m fine, Clarke.” he said quietly. She nodded. A bruised cheek and jaw. He was definitely fine.

“Right. No more fights though.”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She sighed.

“Yes you do Clarke,” he said. She cringed. It was funny how once upon a time she had loved the sound of his voice. It had been one of her most favorite things in the world and now it made her angry or sick. “Mount weather needs to be our first priority,” he told her.

“How the hell do you propose we get there? We don’t have a map or know where it is.”

“Then we need to start sending people out there and scout around until we find it. We leave the weak if we have to and come back for them when we find it.” he said decidedly.

Clarke shook her head and rolled her eyes. She turned and pushed past him.

As she did he grabbed her by the shoulder. “Hold on a second, Clarke I just wanted to–”

She spun around and wrenched herself free. “Don’t you dare touch me,” she hissed.

“I-i’m sorry, It’s jus–” he took a step back and dropped his arms to his side. Clarke saw the hurt on his face. It struck her like a literal punch to the heart because she had never liked the sight of it. He stared at her for a moment, and took a breath before recollecting himself by squaring his shoulders and folding his arms behind his back. Like a soldier.  

There was a time when she was able to tell what he was feeling just by looking at him: a frown that told her he was thinking. A smirk that was his sort of hilarious smile. And his smile… a smile from him was his way of saying _‘You’re safe with me’_ but something had changed in him since her arrest and now all she saw was just another guardsman. He held his head up. “We are going to keep sorting through the wreckage. Is there anything you need in particular?”

“I could use a lot of things right now: medicine, antibiotics, painkillers, bandages. More than what I’ve already found and been using.”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. But you’re doing an incredible job so far. Anything else we need we can make. Or find. Just tell me what yo–”

“–now that I’ve seen want I want to see, think they got a bar in this town? I’ll buy you a beer.” Jasper—the boy with goggles and now a shoe tied around his neck— approached them. Clarke was greeted with his wide smile. Wide enough to show his not-so-perfect teeth, but still pleasant to look at. He reminded her of the type of boys she spent time within the Ark’s infirmary: the sickly, tall, skinny and pale type, with and a beautiful sense of humor and atmosphere. He just had brown eyes.

“I’m Jasper,” he said. “And this is Monty.” he added and held up the shoe. Clarke arched a brow. Jasper laughed and stepped a little closer. So close that Wells felt the need to block him, then grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward.

“You mind?” he said sternly.

“Whoa,” Jasper held his hands up defensively. “Come on, easy dude. Just trying to be friendly.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Murphy casually tossed his book aside and rose. “Back off mini-Jaha. He’s one of mine.” he warned.

Wells let go of him. “One of yours?” He snorted. “He’s in the way. We don’t need any distractions while we’re figuring out what to do.”

“Sorry,” Jasper shrugged. He reached into his pockets and withdrew a small bottle or two and rattled each. _“_ I just thought… _mycin_ and _cillin?"_  he said, clucking his tongue.

“No way. You found some?” The brunette girl took the bottles from his hands and skimmed her fingers along each. “Holy shit. He did,” she smiled at Clarke and tossed the bottles at her.

Clarke opened each, poured the contents into her hand, counted them, and then put them back in their respective bottle. “It’s not much, but it's still something. Good job Jasper. If you find anything else bring it to me right away.”

“Whatever you say.” Jasper grinned and was off again.

Clarke watched him go at a leisurely pace. Almost without a care in the world. He was simple. She liked simple and imagined what he must have been like up on the Ark. Probably one of those Arkers who woke late into the day, eating breakfast rations when it was time for dinner. Then stayed up into the late hours of the night with his friends, singing loudly and disturbing the guards until they dropped. They would do it all over again the next day. She grinned. As she turned to face Well’s again she found him staring at her unhappily. Waiting for an answer. They stared at one another until the physical weight of the silence grew too intense “We're done here.” she said.

“I think that means the princess has put her foot down,” said Murphy, who had been reading. He turn a page and chuckled.

Clarke looked towards him. “That’s right. And for now I want this stuff, the food, clothing and water, I want it passed around to everyone.” She ordered, then said, “Wells you and Murphy make sure to distribute this evenly. And no fighting. I mean it.” Both boys looked at one another, none to please it was clear, but they nodded. That let her relax for a moment before she turned to Perry. “Are there any other mechanics here? That you know of?”

“One or two.” Perry nodded, pocketing his hands.

“Good.” Clarke took a breath and again nodded. “Round them up and see what you can salvage from the part we came in on. Mainly for communications if possible.”

“Anyone ever tell ya, you look good barking orders?” Perry wiggled a brow. “Think I might fall for you. Boss.”

“Hey, get in line. Head injuries get first dibs.” the brunette chimed. Perry chuckled and lifted his hands. He smiled before he was off as well. Murphy and Wells weren’t far behind him and when they were gone, Clarke allowed herself a long exhale. That had been surprisingly painless.

“Don’t suppose you have a job for me?” The brunette girl asked.

Clarke turned and smiled. “You up for sewing more injuries?”

“Do you really want me to?” she made a disgusted noise.

She  nodded. “Yeah I do.”

The girl took a breath and exhaled deeply. “Guess that doesn’t leave me any other choice.” she mumbled. “Where do we begin?”

 

❖

 

The air had grown cold as the noon spread into the night. Clarke shivered in its chill despite the fact she sat so near the fire, pulling her jacket as close as possible. Well, not her jacket, the nameless girl’s jacket. The girl who had spent the last several hours serving as her nurse. She had watched in awe as she started several fires with ease and now they sat in front of one in comfortable silence.

“You know…” Clarke began, eyes drawn to the flickering flames. “I don’t even know your name. I mean, after everything...” her voice trailed away, replaying the events of the last hours. “You do have one right? A name? Or should I keep referring to you as the ‘nameless girl’ or ‘the brunette girl’ in my mind?”

The brunette girl looked over her shoulder and made a face, it wasn’t the kind of face that said: _What-the-hell-kind-of-creepy-thing-is- that-to-say?_ Only because now that she thought about it, it did seem a little weird the way she worded it. But she grinned an: _‘Ooh-what-fun-does-that-possibly-mean?’_ Cocky look.

“I’m in your head already? Kudo’s to me.” she wiggled her brows. “I’m pretty sure everyone's got one. You know. A name?”

“Smart ass.” Clarke smiled and ducked her head.

“I hear the best way to get over a traumatic experience through humor.” she reversed Clarke's position, back now facing the fire. “I’m Octavia.”

“Octavia?” She hummed. “Like the sister of the Roman emperor Augustus?”

The girl, Octavia, gave a tired chuckle and nodded. “At least that’s what my mom says.”

“Well I like it. And despite the dreadful circumstances, it’s nice to meet you. My names Clarke.

“Hi Clarke, it’s nice to meet you.” Octavia said. She screwed up her face. “Did we really just do that?”

“Yeah, I think we did,” Clarke shrugged. “Just because we didn’t crashed and burn, doesn't mean our manners have to.” She bit her lip and once again ducked her head. “And just like that I sound like my mother.”

Octavia snorted. “You sound like _my_ mom.”

“Are you sure you don’t want your jacket back? Its pretty cold.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged. The cold doesn’t really bother me.”

“Okay…” Clarke said quietly. She looked away for the briefest of seconds, and caught the stare of a younger boy and looked away as quickly as she could. She tried her best that night, to ignore the glances of the Arcadian boys across from them and the girls on either of them. It didn’t matter how many of them she’d helped today. They still stared at her with loathing in their eyes.

It was no surprise. Given the circumstance of who she was; one of the privilege as that boy had called her earlier.

“How does it feel? You know,” the boy said, now that he knew she was aware of him. “That your mommy sent you here to be slaughtered?” He was a few years younger than her. She’d found him earlier with a broken wrist. Several other kids around them snickered. Clarke dropped her gaze and pulled Octavia’s jacket tighter against her skin.

“Boy, she sure loves you princess. Didn’t even hesitate huh?” Another boy smirked. She’d sewn his leg shut, a gash at least a inch or two long.

“Bet you think you’re all special after today huh? Think you’ll get first dibs on any real food we find?” Another sneered. Broken nose.

“Or maybe she expects us to make her a bed made of the finest material earth has to offer?” A petite girl said. She had long stitch to her forehead that ran down the left corner side of her face. “I say she sleeps in the forest alone.”

“Hey, come on guys…” said one other. He must have been about her age. A boy with a long neck and a sharp face. Clarke found him earlier, arm broken and bent at an unnatural angle that both she and Octavia had to reset. “The Princess here can share my bed if she wants. One of you can have her after. If you know what I mean.” he offered.

Clarke felt her face flush. She looked away and instead focused on Octavia, on the faded lines of scars that dotted along her bare arms and shoulders. She wondered how they got there. Who inflicted them and why? She looked at her neck, to her cheeks and again found her eyes, a strange look on her face before she half turned to stroke at their fire.  

“You. me. Tonight? What do you say?” The boy continued. Clarke felt her stomach churn and when she looked up, he grinned.

“What do you say about me shoving this stick up your ass while it’s still on fire?” Octavia answered. She, ever so slowly, turned back, without looking at the boy. Her eyes burning as bright as the fire. “Better yet, how about I shove it down your fucking throat?”

The boy shot a brow up. “Easy now, we’re just poking fun,” he chuckled. The others agreed, though several of them moved away from the fire.

“Oh yeah?” she snorted. “That’s smart, why don’t we all insult the woman who spent the better part of her day putting you back together.”

“It's a compliment.” the boy retorted, smugly. He nudged his shoulder into the young boy at his side. “Not like I’m going to offer that kind of thing if I didn't appreciate what she did, right?”

Octavia leaned an elbow on her leg and looked at him. “What part of that is a compliment?”

“That I'd even consider having a go at her?”

“A simple, _‘Thanks for all your help’_ would have worked just a fine.”

“And under different circumstances I would agree. But since we're like… the last people here,” the boy motioned around them. “Isn’t it her duty, hell, even your duty to help repopulate the world? What better way then the princess and me pounding the first night away together? She looks like the virgin typ–”

It was a quick movement, another like when Murphy struck Wells, or how Perry had caught Murphy off guard and shoved him backwards, where Octavia rose, lifted her foot and for a lack of better terms, ‘booted’ him off the log he was sitting on. He hit the ground on his bad arm and yelped. When he jerk around his face was twisted in an ugly snarl.

“What the fu–”

“You’re lucky she was here. If it were me I would have fucking left you there to suffer.” She tried to move closer to him, but Clarke hastily managed to grab her by the arm to keep her from doing so.

“Hey, no more fighting. It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me.” She said.

“It bothers me,” Octavia snapped. “So I’m going to kick his ass unless he apologizes!” Clarke believed her. The tone she used was too serious. Too angry. She swore the temperature rose slightly.

“Apologize? For what?” he hissed.

“Apologize now,” she repeated, or I guarantee you won’t survive the beating I’ll give you.”

The boy suddenly looked nervous. He looked down at his broken arm and up again, before his eyes fell on Clarke. “I’m sorry…” he murmured. He was up before she could reply, limping off to another area of camp. The rest followed, none with so much as a whisper of apology.

Octavia growled.

“Thanks… but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah kinda did. Whether they like it or not, you’re the only person who knows what the hell we’re supposed to do if something happens. Plus, I hate people like that. Especially after what we’ve been through.” she poked at the fire. “I say let them suffer next time.”

“That’s not very nice, now is it?” said Perry. He seemed to have materialized out of thin air, sat on the other side of Clarke and smiled. “Ladies.”

“Hey. any luck with the ship?”  Clarke looked up.

“Nope,” he answered cheerfully. “Nothing but scrap metal and chairs with the part we came in on.”

“Useful?”  

“If we’re going to be here for a while. Shelter material maybe?” Perry shrugged.

“We might. Until I find the map or whatever it is that you need.”

“What are you looking for?” Octavia asked.

“Communications system, a black box that works as a transceiver,” Perry clicked his tongue. “Except it isn’t with the part of the ship we crashed with. There’s a chance it came loose during the crash and is hanging in a tree somewhere. I’ll look tomorrow.” he looked to Octavia and grinned, presenting her with his signature gesture. “I’m Perry, by the way. If you were wondering,” he smiled. The two of them actually shook hands.

“Well I wasn’t, but it’s still nice to know.” Octavia sneered and just like that she and Perry fell into conversation. Clarke listened for a while, until eventually she grew tired of their conversations about mecha-station and thievery. She turned away, looked towards the others; those who sat around their small fires, cuddled, warm and toasty under the blankets they found or otherwise traded Murphy for, and then to those who built shelter from parts of the crash. Her eyes found the boy with the broken arm glaring at her and when he caught her looking he turned to another boy who was busy talking to Wells, their heads bowed together. She wondered what that was about.

She looked up, at the deep blue sky which stretched on endlessly. It was beautiful. Nothing like she’d painted or saw in photographs. She wished she had her art supplies just so she could capture the colors that were so vivid. Her mother would have loved to see something like this. She felt her chest ache and twisted her head around to look up at the Ark. She sighed. They had survived the first couple of hours on the ground, fine and dandy. But what about the rest of the days to come?

“What's wrong?” Clarke looked up and into the concerned eyes of Perry.

“Just thinking about what to do next.”

“As much as you might not want to admit it. But maybe your boyfriend is right, about us getting to that Mount Weather place.” The voice somewhat surprised her. She looked up into the bruised eyes of that boy Murphy. He joined them with a book in his hand as he sat beside the fire. “He wouldn't shut up about it at least.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Clarke mumbled. “And that would be fantastic. If we knew where we were or how to get there.”

“I think we should focus on one thing at a time.” Perry said. He reached into one of his pockets, which Clarke noticed were bulging with nutrition packs. While she and Octavia took care of the injured. Wells, after sorting through most of the wreckage and gathering as much he they could recover, had discovered what they’d all feared: There was only a few weeks worth of food. What Perry had now was probably collected during the first few hours of the crash. He tore it open and bit half of it into his mouth. “Sleep tonight. Worry about the rest tomorrow.” he continued with his mouth full.

She didn’t know why, but she actually liked that idea. Perhaps it was because of the long day: the crash, the field treatments, the fighting, god she was exhausted.

And sleep sounded so good.

“You know what? That, sounds fantastic.” Octavia chimed. “Wait… am I allowed to sleep with a head injury? Should I be worried? Wake up every fifteen minutes?”

“I think you’ll be fine.” Clarke yawned.

“Great!” she sprang up. “So, did you want to share a tent or something?”

“I don’t know about you, but I sorta… I don’t know? Failed that outdoors living seminar. When I tried to pitch a tent, it ate me instead.”

Octavia snorted and from the corner of her eye Clarke watched Perry’s shoulders shake with soundless laughter. “Who would have thought that you would fail in the ability to build shelter. Priceless. I suddenly feel the need to run around shouting about it.”

“Do it and I won’t sew the next injury shut.” Clarke sneered. She slowly rose and stretched.

“Yeah, yeah.” Octavia rolled her eyes. “Come on then. I’m pretty sure we can still salvage something from somewhere and build a tent before it gets too late. And by we I mean me.”

“And by we _I_ mean you.” Clarke yawned again. Octavia shoved her with the side of her hip before she took her by the hand and pulled her away from the boys.

The tent Octavia found had turned out, surprisingly, to be part of their equipment Murphy had found in the forest. Clarke decided not to ask how she got her hands on it because she didn't want to deal with the answer she already knew. Together they struggled to set it up, but once they had, Clarke unzipped it stepped inside and she was so happy because it was big and well kept and warm and _really_ should have been used for more people, but that was another problem they could worry about in the morning. She laid on top of a  mass of parachutes, meant for bedding and moaned as Octavia built a smaller fire not too far from them.

When she finish she joined her and Clarke watched as she removed her shirt and was left only in her bra and pants. An odd heat rushed to her cheeks and she couldn’t help but stare: Octavia was, and of course she had noticed the moment she stitched her head, very beautiful. Now half naked, it was obvious that she was quite healthy. She had olive skin and an tone build. From the light she could see more damage from the crash she had suffered: her back was bruised, a horrible discoloration reaching all the way around her side, like she had been struck repeatedly. Her eyes roamed around, from her shoulder, to the small of her back, to her arms and bare wrists.

She blinked. Bare wrist? “Where’s your wristband?” She sat up.

Octavia shrugged and looked at her wrists. “I didn’t have one when I came too.” She said softly. Clarke frowned, but thought nothing more on the issue. Probably lost it during the crash.

“What are we going to do tomorrow? Or the day after that?” she asked quietly. Why though? Maybe she hoped that Octavia had the answer because she didn’t.

Survive. That was all she knew. That and keep them alive.

“One step at a time, like Perry says. If you ask me. I think we should worry about what to do when we run out of food.” Octavia flopped down besides her. A silent moment passed, because Clarke had nothing to say on that matter. What could she have said? Tell her how the Council had assumed that the hundred of them would land safely? Or how they hoped there would be enough food and that they would figure out how to survive for the next couple of months? If she told her that, how much of it would be a lie? Clarke knew deep down that the Council didn’t expect them to live. At least not long. And then Octavia said, “So, what were you drawing this morning? Before all of this?”

Clarke laughed and shook her head. “Really?” Octavia nodded. “ Wow, okay? Uhm… just, you know?”

“No, not really?”

“Just nonsense, nothing important,” she said quietly.

“Okay, then tell me about that cell of yours? Like when you drew? Did you draw just to pass the time? Escape reality? Or did you draw from like, how you were feeling?” Octavia pressed.

“Are you asking me about my art?”

Octavia nodded, shrugged, then nodded again. “Yeah. What was the first thing you drew?”

“Ever? Or in solitary?”

“Solitary.”

She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers. “A scorpion. The very first night of solitary, that was the first thing I drew. Out of anger after my father was floated,” she’d said it so softly she barely heard herself.

It was quiet for a moment. Octavia didn’t say anything else. Clarke wondered if maybe she felt awkward now. Then a moment later, cheerfully, she said, “I tried to draw once. My mom, and I can tell you she did not appreciate the figure I gave her.” She moved onto her side, propping her head up on her elbow. “So you’re an artist.”

“One of the very few on the Ark and the only one here on the ground.” Clarke mimicked her position.  

“And you can draw anything?”

“Pretty much?”

“And we have to go to Mount Weather, but we can’t?” she began brows slowly knitting together, “because we don’t have a map…?”  

Clarke sighed, suddenly feeling weary. “Mount Weather could be just around the corner, or on the other side of the mountain from where we are. I just don’t know where it is.” for a moment she looked to the flap of their tent and stared. Octavia left it open and she could see Perry outside, talking to Charlotte. Probably offering the child a tent to share. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Smooth Doctor Griffin. “There isn’t that many of us, but with the few serious injuries,” she shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t want to go on a wild goose chase.”

“So, then why don’t we make a map?” Octavia said. And it was like a switch suddenly flipped on inside Clarke's head. Why hadn't she thought about _that_? She must have had a look on her face because Octavia continued talking. “You're an artist. So draw one. We’ll explore a little each day and you can draw as we go.”

Clarke nodded slowly. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I’m more than just a gorgeous face, you know?”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Clarke didn’t miss a beat.” Do you think Murphy has paper?”

“Probably?” she shrugged. “At least you have an all you can get pass to his little mound.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask tomorrow.” Clarke sighed. Resting her head on her arm, she looked at Octavia. More so at the scars along her arm and this time up her shoulder. There was a tattoo on her upper arm. “Tell me about that tattoo? What is it? Something among thieves?”

Octavia snorted. “Oh yeah, my initiation into a guild of thieves wasn’t complete until I got my tattoo,” she looked at her shoulder and shrugged. “Just one of the crazy moments.”

“But you get sick at the sight of blood. So how did you manage to sit through hours of that?”

“No I don’t,” she paused and made a face, “Okay I do. But in my defence, those injuries were really gross. And I only threw up like, twice. Way less than Jasper did.” she gave a short laugh. “And for your information. I cried like a little baby, but I didn’t have to watch them work on my tattoo.” She shook her head. “The story I could tell would make you cringe.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it?”

Octavia grinned. “Alright. So you know...” Octavia began. Clarke laid her head on her folded arms and listen to every word the other girl said.

* * *

 

_Days on Earth: 0_

_Numbers of Survivors: 49_

_Missing: 51_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or kudos or... I don't know what it is that feuls me here haha. But I hope you enjoy the chapter. Sorry for any errors or mistakes. Still no beta, haha. Q~Q


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: a bit of information digging and a little exploring and

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I thank my dear sweet and very handsome buddy Perry. The only thing I own are the Characters: Perry Broden and Alison Queen.

* * *

Octavia woke early the next morning feeling stiff and sore. She propped herself up on her elbows and groaned.  _ I know I told them to thrash me, but seriously they could have held back. _ She thought miserably. When she looked over her shoulder Clarke was nowhere to be seen, but the spot where she’d laid was still warm. She’d left her jacket there. As she rose she felt around for her shirt and slipped it on before she put on the jacket. A sound from her rear startled her. As she turned three or four other people were at the tents mouths. Just standing there. Staring at her. 

“Uh…? What?” She blinked and they all started talking at once. Filling the tent with questions and demands to know what they were supposed to do with their pain, or where the medications were. Questions she had no idea how to answer.  None of them even looked injured. Just a little uncomfortable, probably sore like she was, though for entirely different reasons.  _ What a bunch of babies! _ she turned and raised her voice over them, “I don’t know what medical issues you’re having, but do I freaking look like Clarke to any of you?” She stumbled around and slipped out the front end of the tent before they could say anything else.

She stumbled into Clarke on her way out, who had the same look of annoyance on her face that Octavia felt. “Unless you have serious injuries: bleeding, vomiting, vomiting blood, can’t move a part of your body completely, please line up over here.” she motioned to the front of their tent. “The rest of you will have to wait until we find more medication.”

“Didn’t you find some yesterday?” A boy moaned painfully, cradling his left arm.

“Yes. but there isn’t enough to use carelessly. The majority of you are going to be sore for a few days, I’m sorry. If you’re still in pain come noon, I’ll see what medication I can spare. It won’t be enough, but it might help.” Clarke continued loud above their complaints. Like a person in charge. She noticed it the day before too, when Clarke took care of her and in the fight between Wells and Murphy. It didn’t seem official, at least these people didn’t elect anyone for the position, but they seemed to recognize her authority.

Perfect. That would make this so much easier. She just had to get close to her and figure out what they wanted. Why they had come and if they could be trusted. When half of them left Octavia wondered if Clarke had expected it. Only three, who infact looked worse than she expected, remained. Clarke sighed, ran her fingers through her hair before she motioned for the first of them to come forward.

Octavia took that as her cue to leave. There was no need for her to stay and watch that. She had better things to do, like learn about the forty-seven other people. The question was where to begin. She took a look around and supposed she could talk to any one of the handful of people who were already up, sorting through more of the wreckage. she didn’t think there would have been so much of it.

“Morning, Firefly.” Octavia turned. That boy Perry walked towards her, eating some kind of gross bar. She tried one the night before and weighed the option of eating mud over it after that first bitter bite.

“Hey. You’re up early,” she greeted him with a lazied wave.

“I guess so,” he smiled and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. “Years of late night calls and long repair hours. The life of a mechanic, you know? Might take sometime getting used to this new downtime. You?”

She shrugged and fought the urge to groan. “Not built for it, I guess. I can normally get by on a few hours of sleep.” It wasn’t a lie, Nyssa had gotten her up earlier than this for nothing more than to watch falling stars or gather flowers that only bloomed at specific times of the night.

“So, what’s the plan for the day?”

_ Straight to business this one. _ “Me and Clarke were talking last night and I guess we don’t have a map or something,” she said, “I suggested that since we don't, maybe she can make one being an artist and all. I figured I’d ask Murphy if he has any paper or pens in the meantime. Save a little time.” Back towards the tent Clarke was twisting a boys arm up. It must have been dislocated.

Octavia couldn’t fight a grimace. He looked in so much pain and sounded like she was murdering him. “Later we can take a small group or something to check around the forest. You know? Get a better lay of the land.”

“Sounds like a plan. Count me in.”

“Have you seen Murphy?”

“Manning the…” Perry shrugged. “Black Market? Something about protecting it from thieves.” He told her.

“Not surprising,” Octavia said. She felt the swell of satisfaction well in her chest. It had been easy to steal from it. She’d waited until he stepped away, snatched what she wanted and and that was that. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t relished in the knowledge that he would have noticed when they set the tent up. Just a little payback for the forehead thing. “Alright, thanks.” she waved herself off and glanced around as she went back to the task at hand.

_ ‘Murphy,’ _ She thought about him for a moment. He was only looking out for himself, that was obvious. You don’t hoard everything for the sake of other people, but beside that he had made something happen. With another boy named Graham, as his enforcer they had strong-armed most of the hoarders into handing over anything useful they’d found and used it to trade back and forth until the night. And now he was in charge of the entire camp’s items. If there was something she needed, she’d have to go to him. Which would be a problem is he held a grudge. She hoped he wasn't that petty. If anything else she’d bat her lashes and apologize.  

“Come on, keep the food and water separate from the other stuff.”  Octavia looked over to the west and stopped walking. That Wells boy was over there sorting through some of the wreckage with his own little group, collecting  food and water as it was found. It bothered her that Clarke seemed okay with Murphy being in charge of supplies and not Wells. He looked more trustworthy after all. Like the type of guy she pictured sitting and taking inventory just to make sure everything was there and that no one got screwed out of… whatever. He would have been her first choice, but apparently it seemed as though something bad had happened between him and Clarke. Something that didn't seem like it would be sorted out anytime soon.

As she passed several more people she saw a few of them near the forest picking plants. She had found out a few of their names yesterday:

There was the girl, Charlotte, who was by far the youngest. Octavia wondered what kind of crime such a small girl could have committed. She reminded her of a frightened rabbit. She wondered if Nyssa would take her back to the village. None of the Kripa warriors would care for her, but maybe a mother would, and she’d have a better chance of surviving there anyway.

Then there was that Harper girl. She claimed to be from a farm station or something, so she must have known of some medicinal herbs and their properties. Odessa would find that useful. Maybe have her trained as a healer, the Kripa always needed more healers.

Lastly there was Jasper, head thrown back and laughing. She couldn’t say much about him really. Jasper was just… well Jasper. He had a goofy face and pleasant atmosphere, but there wasn't really anything about him that Odessa would want that she had seen so far. Though there was time to find out.

When she reached Murphy’s, ironic how the name fit so perfectly, like some old timey pawn shop; Atom, a boy with short black hair and a somewhat muscular build, was there sucking the water out a bottle and stuffing two more into his pockets. He looked at her and flashed a bright grin as she stepped around him to stand in front of Murphy and cleared her throat to get his attention.

“What can I do for you this morning,  _ Thief? _ ” Oh dear. Maybe he was petty.  Murphy looked up from the book he was reading. His face was less swollen than it had been from the night before but it was still a mosaic of bruises and his voice was strained. “I don’t like being stolen from, but since the tent now belongs to the Princess, I guess I’ll let it slide. Next time I won’t be so nice,” he closed his book. “What do you want?”

“Glad to see business is up and running.” Octavia said with a dulled tone. “Did you find any paper? And pens?”

“For?”

“So I can shove them up your ass and see if you can write with them.” Atom snorted a laugh behind her. “Clarke needs them. Obviously.”

“Fine.” Murphy reached behind himself to retrieve a little black book.  “Princess is in luck, I found a journal. I guess she can make better use of the paper than I can.” he told her and tossed it to her.

Octavia caught it and nodded. “Thanks.” She left quickly, and a little surprised that it had gone without incident or some huge commotion. As she left She glanced around again before her eyes drifted lazily to the field where she had helped Clarke tend to her patients. There were a people littered about the area laughing and lazing about. Her eyes fell on two girls crowded around a boy, the younger one sitting while the other reached futilely at a shoe the boy held over their head.

A shout from past the girls stole her attention followed by a loud, “What the hell man?!”

“Another fight?” Octavia wondered. What was it with these people from the sky? She hurried over towards the commotion and saw a boy trying to grab something out of another, much larger, boy's arms. She watched as the larger boy shoved the other down and swung down at him, the slimmer boy quickly rolling to avoid it. An axe. Octavia realized as she watched the large boy pull it out of the ground and swing it at anyone who approached.

“Are you trying to kill me?” the slim boy shrieked as the axe sank into the ground where his head had just been.

The larger boy only laughed and swung his axe down once more, missing again with the other rolling out of reach this time. A group had started to trickle together, people curious about the yelling especially after what had happened yesterday. Octavia spotted Clarke making her way towards them, shoving her way through.

“Hey!” She shouted. She caught his attention. Well that was stupid. They must not have had many weapons on their Ark if she didn’t know not to shout at someone wielding one like a maniac. The boy however didn’t seem to know where the voice had come from and looked around quickly. Octavia saw the wild look in his eyes as he did.

This could get ugly. Octavia pushed her way to the front of the crowd, elbowing and shoving people out of her way. Why are they so eager to fight? Was that why they were sent here? Just as she reached the blonde, she suddenly felt herself being shoved forward, probably because she got in the way of someone shoving Clarke, and the boy with the axe swung at her. She barely ducked. In the same movement she shoved him backwards and he tripped over a pile of items that she hadn’t noticed before, pulling away the blanket covering it.

Her eyes fell to them. More weapons. Quite a few actually: axes, knives, and spears; handmade but very dangerous looking. She wasn’t the only one who saw them either. The people nearest to them lunged forward, taking what they could into their arms before they scattered for the forest. Clarke shouted, but her voice was lost on them. The few that stayed were like lost sheep with no idea of what had just happened or what to do.

“Where did you get that?” Clarke demanded.

“I made it.” the boy said. Octavia hadn’t even realized when he’d gotten back up. His eyes were still wild, his irises tiny as they fixed on Clarke. She wondered what was wrong with him. He reminded her of the Kripa the mountain men had control over, the crazy ones Odessa personally ended with no less than six warriors as reinforcements just because they were so violent and uncontrollable, though on rare occasions even that wasn’t enough— she realized she had touched the scar on her throat. There was a flash of metal and she jerked back, her left leg buckled as the blade of the axe narrowly missed her and she fell.

Clarke stepped in this time. Ducking under his swing, she struck her fist against his jaw with a sickening crunch that made Octavia want to wince; it sounded like fingers might have shattered from the force. The boy staggered back, stunned and confused as she cradled her hand and swore softly. The boy raised his arms again but Clarke landed another strike: sending him flying backwards with a foot to his chest. He fell with a heavy thud.

“Enough! I want those weapons back now!” she snarled in a voice that sounded like she wanted to cry. Anyone holding onto a weapon instantly dropped it though. Octavia watched her with both amusement and awe. Clarke was so much like Lincoln: a warrior and a healer. And she was so commanding as well. Octavia felt her heart pound with excitement. Odessa would want her for sure. Clarke turned again, toward the trees where the others had scattered, to see where they had gone. The boy with the axe raising his fist as Clarke looked the other way. Octavia opened her mouth to warn her.

“Clarke!” Someone shouted first. It sounded like Perry, but the warning was too slow. The blonde was met with a well-aimed shot to her face that sent her to the ground and Octavia saw blood in her mouth.

The boy raised the axe over Clarke, looking very much like a deranged psychopath. Octavia lunged forward, striking him across the face with all the strength she could muster. He lost his grip on the weapon and she knocked his legs out from under him. No wonder Odessa kept doing it. It was satisfying when she watched him hit the ground and heard the air go out of him. The boy rolled over and she delivered a swift kick to his side before she kneeled over him, pinning him to the ground to keep him from rising again. He thrashed under her, reaching and clawing for her face.

“That’s enough!” Clarke shouted, her voice a little garbled. Octavia looked over her shoulder and got off the boy who rolled over on his side, panting. She went to Clarke right away, taking her face between her hands to look at where she bled. Clarke gave her half a bloody smirk and looked a little bit dazed. She opened her mouth to say something, but a groan came out instead.

“Who told you to make weapons?” Octavia understood and asked the question for her. She tore away part of her shirt and held it to Clarke’s mouth.  

“I did,” came Wells’s voice. Both Octavia and Clarke were startled by it. They watched as he made his way through the small crowd, arms behind his back. He reminded Octavia of a general.  

“Do I even want to know why?” Clarke mumbled as she held her hands against Octavia’s.

“Because we need them.” he said calmly. He looked down at the boy scrambling to his feet. “You actually made good progress, Asher.” he praised, but the boy Asher was too busy glaring at Octavia to notice.

“For what?” Octavia faked curiosity, but she knew why. For whatever reason, these people had come down without weapons. Wells was smart and he knew what they needed. They needed them because they were going to be here for a while.

“Because there isn’t enough food to go around. And gathering wood is a lot easier with an axe.” he waited a moment to see if she would say anything and when she didn't he added, “I explored a little this morning and I found animal tracks,” he said. It started a waves of awed murmurs about what sort of animals they could find. Octavia couldn’t help but smile as they talked about what they all hoped to see.

“What was it?”someone asked excitedly.

“By the tracks? I’d say it was probably an herbivore. Something that eats plants. Something we can catch and eat,” his statement caused more discussion.

“What do you know about hunting?” Octavia asked. “What does anyone know?”

“Nothing, but that doesn't mean we can’t learn. We'll have to.”

“He’s right.” Clarke said. She smiled a little at Octavia and moved away. She spit on the ground before she continued. “With the way food is going now, there isn’t enough to feed us for the rest of the week, let alone the month. Especially if people are hoarding food. If we're going to keep the weapons then we need to decide who gets to use and where to keep them. We can’t just let random people have access.” she motioned to the boy named Asher.  “He could have killed someone.”

“It was a mistake. Asher should have brought them straight to me. I’m sorry.” Wells’s expression changed to shame for a moment.

Octavia looked over to the weapons on the ground and stopped listening to their debate. No way in hell was she going to wait for permission for a weapon. She’d already left her sword behind. She smiled as her eyes landed on a bow and three arrows. Familiar territory.

“I call dibs. I am so ready to hunt with this baby.” She grinned and swung the arrows over her shoulder. Clarke shot her a look and she quickly turned away, eyes suddenly drawn to something more interesting in the trees. “Shouldn’t we like, get the rest of them back from the scavengers?” she ran her finger along the bow.

“That's a good idea.”

“I’ll recover them all… starting with the bow and arrows.” Wells said. He hadn’t moved from where he stood.

“Yeah, right. No way.” Octavia snorted. “Clarke and I are exploring today. Who knows what’s out there. I need it,” she said as though she didn’t know what to expect. She looked at Clarke,  stuck her bottom lip out in a pleading expression,  and batted her eyes. “Please?”

“You’re exploring? It’s dangerous out there.” Wells said.

“Yet you had no problem exploring this morning,” Clarke snorted. “That doesn’t matter. If Octavia can use the bow she can have it. You worry about getting back the rest of the weapon’s  _ you _ gave the word for.”

“Alright Clarke. Whatever you want. Is there anything else you need? Have you thought more about going to–”

“Have you seen Murphy?" She asked Octavia, bluntly snubbing Wells.

“Trade area. Oh, here.” She pulled the black book from her jacket pocket and tossed it to her. “For the map process.” Clarke caught it and smiled as she saw what it was.

“Perfect.”

“When do we leave?” Perry asked, joining their informal huddle.

“Right now,” she started back towards the clearing.

“You're going too?” Octavia huffed. Perry snorted and puffed out his chest.

“Like I’d leave you capture all the glory thrill of adventure? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

Octavia sputtered a laugh. When he glowered at her she shook her head. “You’ll probably embarrass yourself just fine without me,” she teased.

“Think we’ll be okay?” he asked. “Just the three of us?” Octavia nodded. The less the better. There was never more than three in a scouting group. Nyssa had taught her that. The more people the harder it was to keep formation if something happened. She looked over her shoulder at her new cloth quiver. Only three arrows. She’d have to keep point, which was fine with her. She’d be able to lead them away from anything they didn’t need to know about.

“Three is fine,” said Clarke. “Let’s go before anymore try to join us.”

They crossed the clearing and stepped into the woods. Octavia matched Clarke’s stride and joined her side. “You should probably eat something.” she gave Clarke a nutrition pack she’d also taken when she stole their tent.

“Tell me you didn’t steal it.” Clarke stopped and looked at her. The way her eyes were narrowed reminded Octavia  of her mother. Though she’d probably not mind a scolding from her.

Octavia felt mischievous. “What? Like from Charlotte or Atom?” Clarke nodded. She folded her arms and pretended to be offended. “No of course not, who do you think I am?” she waited a moment, for Clarke's face to soften in the belief that maybe she judged Octavia wrong. When it did she grinned. “I stole it from Murphy’s second stash.”

“That’s a bad habit.”

She was a little disappointed at the response.

“Yeah. But I totally just saved the day and now you won’t starve. So suck it.” She  tilted her head to the side and gave Clarke a wide smile. Clarke laughed and it was a somewhat cheery sound that hit Octavia’s chest a little oddly for a moment. It made her forget the very reason they were going into the forest until Clarke moved ahead and Perry had to push her forward so that they could continue.

They walked in silence for awhile, past the area she had met Clarke. It was brighter today. They walked along a narrow path, dotted with purple and white blossoms. There was a shrub here and there with long twisted petals that pointed towards the sky as if some invisible force in the air somehow twisted them.

“What an odd looking flower.” Clarke reached out and touched one. “It’s pretty though, I wonder if it has any medicinal properties.”

“You’re the doctor. Shouldn’t you know that already? You were probably the only one who like, paid attention in Earthskills.” Octavia nocked an arrow and aimed in various directions. She was surprised at the make of it. Not as good as a Kripa or even a Trikru bow, but she was sure if she tried she could at least hit something. And she’d impress Clarke at the same time. Two birds with one stone. Or something. A thought struck her and she couldn’t help but grin. “You know, I could be like, one of the superheroes in old comics with this thing.”

It was a secret fantasy of her’s. The courageous, brightly costumed heroes that fought great battles and went on fantastic adventures in ancient comics had really spoke to her. She and her friend Shearan would spend all day pouring over the crate of comics they found in some forbidden ruins. They went quick in the markets, only after they had read them. A lot of her motivation to become a warrior had come from them.

“What? Like Clint Barton?” Perry asked. He ducked when she aimed near him.

_ Oh so he knows about them too. But no not that one.  _ “I’m a little more attractive than Clint Barton, right?”

“If I knew who that was, I’d probably agree. And,” Clarke turned her attention back to the flowers. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Maybe you just don’t remember.”

Clarke laughed again. And again Octavia felt that odd pinch in her chest. “ I don’t think that’s the problem. Do  _ you _ know what they are?” she challenged. Of course she knew. She swaggered over, lowered her bow and slung it back over her shoulder before she stepped over and leaned in. She smelled it and smiled. Easy.

“It’s a peppermint plant.”

She snorted. “You liar. Peppermint plants are green.”

“Used to be green. Plants have changed since people were here. But it still has that familiar smell.”

“How do you know?” Clarke looked at her, eyes shining with curiosity.

_ ‘Because my mom grows them,’  _ she wanted to say but she bit her tongue and what came out instead was, “My mom has this plant book, pressed and all. There was a peppermint leaf in it. It was my favorite one,” her voice trailed away softy.

She found herself thinking about her mother just then and wondered if she was okay with her mission. Did Odessa even tell her? Her mother already knew she was going to be gone for a few days. _ ‘Maybe that was why Odessa gave me three days to figure out what these Skai people want,’  _ she thought, then smiled. How proud was her mother going to be when she learned she’d not only passed but that Odessa wanted her as a Kripa too? And Nyssa… well Nyssa would claim her in a year.

“Remind me to pick some on the way back,” Clarke said. Octavia’s excitement must have shown on her face because she added a moment later, “And I think they’re amazing too.” She smiled and began walking again.

“And to think.” Perry stepped besides her. “If you  hadn’t been confined, you’d never be able to see them.” he said cheerfully.

“You’re right. I’ll be sure to thank Wells for that when we get back.” Her tone sounded bitter.

Octavia stepped to her other side. This was good. A little information. “What’d he do? Get you in trouble or something?”

“Or something… and got my father floated,” Clarke whispered.

Floated. She had heard that term before. Not just among the skai people but from her mother and few of her people as well. People might have wondered why she had heard of such a foreign word. But then she was a skai-child herself. Floated just for being born. Or so that's what her mother claimed. But it seemed to have a different meaning for some of these Skai-people. Octavia watched her and wondered what it meant if it threatened to bring tears.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to hunt?” Perry broke the silence and shifted the attention. Clarke gave him a brief, thankful look. “It’s been four hundred years since anyone killed an animal. Where would someone like you even get a chance to practice?”

Octavia puffed out her chest and felt a little smug. “Someone has to try. Like Wells says: we’re going to run out of food soon.”

“Well, if you manage to kill anything. I’ll worship the ground you walk on for at least a week.”

She smirked. “I’m so going to hold you to that.”

Perry laughed. As they continued walking, Octavia took point. She knew the area. Knew it was best to keep them on a certain path and she had a place in mind already. While they needed food it wasn’t at the top of her list. Water was.

“Can I ask you something?” She heard Perry ask. “Well a couple of things?”

“What's up?” Clarke answered.

“Why do you think it was suddenly important to send us down. What changed?” Octavia stopped and turned. That’s what she wanted, or rather needed to know as well. If it were innocent, she could convince Odessa to spare all of them.

But first she needed to seal her story. “Who cares I’m just glad they did. Yesterday, I woke up rotting in a cell and today? Today I get to spin in a forest.” She spun around a tree for effect. “Why should we care about the reason or timing?”

Perry smiled, but his expression was troubled. “I just thought that maybe they found something wrong with the Ark,” he said, “Which is something I doubt because they didn’t call anyone in Mecha Station for it.”

Octavia looked at Clarke. Her brows came together with discomfort at whatever it was she was thinking of and for a long moment she was quiet. “The Ark is dying. At the current population level there’s roughly three months left of life support.”

“And you’re a traitor, because you knew?” Perry gasped .  By the way Perry’s eyes widened, Octavia knew there was something seriously wrong.

Clarke nodded and continued walking, a little slower now. “My father was the engineer who discovered that there’s a leak in the Ark’s oxygen. He thought the people had a right to know, but, the Council disagreed. My mother disagreed. They were afraid it would cause a panic. We were gonna go public, when Wells…”

“He turned your dad in?” Octavia whispered. Clarke nodded and she suddenly felt sick.

“There isn’t enough oxygen. So sending us down buys them more time, and we’re worth the risk.”

“How much time?”

“Two months maybe?”  

“And then they’ll send more people down?” Octavia asked.

“If everything goes well.”.

“And if it doesn’t?” Clarke didn't answer and Octavia knew it was something unspeakable. Just what kind of person was this leader of the Skai-people? She wasn’t a stranger to the saying  _ ‘sacrifices must be made for the greater good’ _ , Kripa warriors were trained and ready for that. But even Odessa didn’t sacrifice the younger warriors. Why didn’t this Leader of theirs send more seasoned people? If they sent a hundred why not fifty-fifty it? Old and young? What was so special about this group?

“I can see why the young Prince was hell bent on getting to this destination his old man wants us to go to. But do you think this Mount Weather place is still standing? After all this time?” Perry asked. They started walking again.

“I don’t know,” Clarke murmured.

Octavia tried not to frown, because she knew how important it was, at least she thought it was, for them to get there, but just the mention of that place frightened her. It was there, but there were people there too. Maun-de kom Maunon. She had never seen one, but she had seen what they did to the other Kripa’s and the grounders they captured. The scar at her throat hurt when she thought of them.   

“What are odds are of anything being usable if we get there?” she cleared her throat.

“What? Like expired medicine? food?” Perry asked.

“That, exactly.” Clarke said. “What if everything is degraded after years of being untouched? Wells just expects me place all my faith in… hope.” They came across a large fallen tree. One that had come down weeks earlier, a Kripa battle of generals where one threw the other into the tree and this was the result. Octavia grinned. It was still partially rooted to the ground. She climbed over it and then helped Clarke over after her. They hopped off with a soft  _ ‘oof’  _ and continued on. “Mount Weather was built to withstand nuclear war but four hundred and ninety seven years is a long time.” Clarke continued.

“It’s our best bet though?” Octavia bounded ahead of them just far enough. She took a look around the area. Left then right. Ah, yes she knew where they were. Couldn't go left… so she took a path to the right before she turned.

“Unfortunately it is. But, what are we supposed to expect?”

“Can’t say that I’m too worried about it. If it’s there that’ll be great. But, if not,” Perry shrugged. “At least we get to have a convivial adventure!” they had almost reached her when Perry took Clarke by the hand and twirled her around. “Sometimes in life you just gotta smile and enjoy the moment, boss.”

Clarke stopped and shook her head. “I hate to sound like Wells, but how do you expect us to survive without supplies if they aren’t there? I shadowed my mother in medicine. Not…” she motioned at Octavia. “hunting or tracking or… surviving the wilderness.”

Perry shrugged again. “Well then we’re probably screwed. Unless Firefly can actually hunt something. No sense in overthinking it now. One step at at time. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer a pleasant stroll on this beautiful planet over some scowling brood fest. Are you always this serious?”

“When our lives are at stake? I think I have a right to be.” A thing a leader would say if Octavia ever heard one.

“I don’t think you’re going to win anyone over if you keep that line of thought.”

“I’m not here to win people over, Perry. I wanna keep us alive.” Clarke told him. It was a good mind set. One any leader should have when facing the unknown. Keep their people alive first, win them over later. Octavia watched her out of the corner of her eye. When Clarke looked up and she followed her stare. Though it was hard to see through the trees, there was a star in the sky. She had to step back a little bit. And just as Clarke began to say, “Once we–” her foot slipped as the ground gave way and she rolled down a hilly slope with a yelp. Skidding down, she landed in the mud at the bottom with a wet thud.

“Octavia are you alright?” as “Just great,” Octavia snarled, she scrambled to her feet, ankle-deep in mud. U pset that she’d been so clumsy. She frowned, sitting on drier ground as she pulled one of her boots off and upended it. “My socks are wet now.”

She looked up as Clarke shuffled down the slope and maneuvered around the mud. Perry slid down carelessly and came to a stop in front of her just as she was taking off the other boot and her socks along with it. She stood and laid them over a branch to dry before she stepped back into the wet leather. She made a face. It was a disgusting feeling and there was a wet squelching sound as she walked. After three or four step, she abandoned her boots altogether.

By the early noon the temperature had risen nearly unbearable levels for the three of them that left them drenched with sweat. Octavia found out that Clarke had never sweated before, at least not before those first couple of hours after the crash while she tended to all those wounded, and she complained it wasn’t really to her liking. Perry was used to it. Being a mechanic apparently meant late work hours and lots of sweating. Octavia laughed though. Despite the fact that their pace at the beginning had been so full of life she and Perry now seemed sapped of energy and were dragging their feet with each step under the sun’s harsh rays.

They stopped about an hour later to rest in a shaded area. Octavia flopped down and laid back in the grass beside Clarke, watching in fascination as she drained a bottle of water in less than a minute before starting on a second. She drank half of that and sighed before handing it over. Octavia finished the rest of it, not without a teasing remark of an indirect kiss and sputtering a laugh when Perry choked on his bottle.

“This is disgusting.” Clarke panted. She pulled at the top of her shirt and frowned.

“Totally,” Octavia grinned. She looked at the other girl and made a face. Sweat was everywhere: across her brow, her neck, her arms, since some time ago she had taken off Octavia’s jacket. She pinched her nose and said, “You guys stink.”

“You’re no barrel of roses either. Pocahontas.” Perry snorted. He had given her that nickname after she’d jogged ahead of them and took off in some random direction for what he claimed was the seventh time orso. She didn’t know what it meant and couldn’t really ask. But she kinda liked it. “I can’t believe we haven't seen a single animal.” Perry frowned while  he laid back on the grass with hands behind his head. He took his glasses off and closed his eyes. He seemed like he was ready to fall asleep with how comfortable he looked.  “So much for prints. Princy was wrong.”

“That's not surprising…” Clarke gazed about the area. “Haven’t you noticed all the healthy vegetation?”

Perry hummed his response.

“There’s a lot. Which means there probably isn’t any wildlife in the area eating it. For all we know there could be radiation hazardous enough that it’s already killed all the animals here.  Who knows how the exposure is effecting us. Maybe we've already been exposed to enough of it to kill us too.”

Octavia snorted. “Way to sugar coat it.” If this was her healer’s bedside manner, she wasn’t sure what she would do if that was actually the case.

“And if it doesn’t,” Clarke ignored her. “then we still have the problem of surviving. Starving will definitely kill us.” she looked around again and smiled a little. “I’ll admit it’s pretty but we need our priorities straight. The Earth isn’t going anywhere. There’ll be time to enjoy it later–”

That was when they heard it. A strange noise from the trees. Clarke turned. Perry sat up straight and did the same. The sound came again and it was followed with a loud rustling. Octavia nocked her bow.  She saw movement so she pulled an arrow back  and let it fly.

Her arrow wedged into a tree and when it did she was startled to hear the yelp that followed. Jasper emerged a moment later, with a girl. A blond girl. The same girl Octavia remembered repeatedly screeching some name as she and Clarke tried to tend to her wounds. The same girl she’d seen several times since, who was always sitting in the same spot— Octavia was sure she’d slept there even. She couldn’t remember anyone approaching her though.It was like they didn’t even notice her. What was her name? Ashley? Alice? She racked her brain. Amber?

“Alison?” Clarke said as if she’d read her mind. “Jasper? Why are they here?”

“Maybe they followed us.” Perry said.

“Obviously… but…” How was this possible? The two of them had been following them since they left camp and she hadn’t even noticed? She fought the urge to blush in embarrassment. Odessa would have laughed at her and Nyssa would have teased her endlessly. Octavia suddenly wanted to find the farthest, deepest, hole in Azgeda territory and bury herself inside it. How could she have not noticed them? Alison was small. Not just in the sense that Jasper was taller than her, but in her presence. Jasper though, he looked clumsy enough that even a warrior child could have taken him out. “What are you guys doing out here?”

Jasper looked at them nervously. He had one of his hands on the shoe tied around his neck—Octavia had thought he’d named it Monty, but now she knew that he had not  _ named _ the shoe Monty but that it  _ belonged  _ to his best friend named Monty— and said, “Oh you know,” he shrugged. “just a stroll in the forest? Taking some fresh air, seeing the sights, dodging arrows.”

Octavia smirked at that. “I hear dodging arrows is the highlight of one's morning.”

“Totally, don’t think I could have gone on with my day without it.” Jasper grinned and just like that any worry from before was gone and he moved around them, sitting with a loud  _ ‘oh yeah,  _ besides Perry. Alison continued to stare with wide eyes. She looked a lot like a deer Octavia had hoped would have shown up.

“So… staring is pretty creepy. Right?” She whispered to Clarke.

“Maybe she’s in shock?”

“Hey don’t ask me. I’m not the one with medical training. I’m a thief remember?”  Clarke snorted, before walking over the girl.

“Alison? Are you alright?” she asked. Alison blinked and reared back to her senses. She looked up and shook her head, staring right at Octavia.

“You almost shot me.” she said quietly. She sunk to the ground, pulling her knees tightly to her chest. “You almost…”

“I thought you were an animal,” Octavia used a tone that even she recognized as uncaring, feeling a little irritated for some reason before she remembered that she was supposed to  _ be  _ one of these people. It wouldn’t work in her favor to upset them. Especially Clarke. She looked over to the blonde sheepishly. Clarke was frowning at her and she fought the urge to bite her tongue. She moved around Alison to retrieve her arrow.  She only had three it and wouldn’t have done anyone any good if she lost any of  the damn things. Clarke watched her and she mouthed an apology as she passed Alison. She was answered with a stiff nod.  _ Great. I messed up,  _ She thought, pulling her arrow from the tree with a loud grunt. “If you were following us why didn’t you call out or something?”

“We thought that if you saw us, you would us send us back.” Alison whispered.  

“You don’t look so good,” Clarke said, “When was the last time you ate anything?”

“I’m not hungry.” Alison mumbled into her arms. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Looking for who?” Octavia turned back to them.

“Bellamy.” Alison whispered the name so softly they nearly missed it.

“Bellamy?” Octavia repeated. “Who’s—”

_ “—Bellamy?” Octavia asked. She was on the bench against the wall that morning. _

_ “Your older brother,” her mother had answered. She stood behind the parlor counter of her shop that morning, tying a basket of soil and herbs for a young woman. Her post was fairly lit inside, with less than a dozen people who littered around and pressed into the far corners of the rooms where there was less light. The windows were open and a light breeze carried through. _

_ “Wait, I have a brother? Why am I just hearing about this now?” Octavia asked as she watched a woman and her son approached her counter. The boy smiled. He was cute, a little fat in the face but cute. A deck of Ancient playing cards were in his hand. His mother stared at her with the familiar look of disdain she was used to by so many of the Kripa people. At least those who felt she and her mother, Aurora didn’t belong among them. Still, ever so polite, Octavia smiled, closed a fist over her chest and bowed her head in greeting. The boy returned the gesture and his mother turned away towards her own. _

_ “Because I believe you’re now old enough to know,” Her mother told her as the woman traded her whatever she had for the soil and herbs and left with a pleasant smile, her son was close behind her. “He was a bright boy you know. Smart too. Tall for his age by the time you were born. I think the two of you would have been the best of friends. I don’t know what I would have done without him when I had you. ” _

_ “What good does that do me now? It’s not like I’m going to meet him.” She said. Aurora greeted a taller man with an extremely thick neck before she turned to reach something in one of her drawers. Aurora hummed her response. _

_ “Call it a mother's intuition.” _

_ “On what?” She frowned. But her mother only hummed again. “Mom? Did something happen at the other complex? Do they know something about the–”   _

_ “Don’t you have that… fight thing? That… pointless battle that you’ll be gone for days for and return from beaten to a bloody pulp?” _

_ “It’s not pointless… and yes…” Octavia sighed. She always hated how her mother could do that, bring something up then change the subject. She was determined not to fall for it, but… well you know, so she sighed. It must have been a pathetic sound because her mother had looked at her as if she were trying to be sure it was her daughter there. “What if I don't make the cut?” _

_ “Why wouldn't you? You’ve been training with that… Nyssa is it? Haven’t you?” Octavia mhmed in answer. “So why wouldn't you pass this test of theirs? _

_ “Because she always kicks my ass? Odessa is going to destroy me.” _

_ Her mother hummed. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard such whispered tales. Should I be worried?” _

_ “I may come back without an arm. Maybe a gruesome scar to my face.” Octavia said slowly. She smirked at the way her mother turned and scowled. She laughed softly. “You dodged the question by the way. Why the sudden thought about a brother you’ve never told me existed. Is something up?” _

_ Aurora hummed again and if it wasn’t for the pleasant sound of it, she would have asked her to stop.“You say Nyssa always beats you, but I know you do your training before the other Kripa warriors and I’ve heard them talk. They’re impressed. They say you have the stubborn habit of getting back up. Perhaps you’ll embrace that when you go to this…” her mother grunted, “...initiation?” she lifted a pot from the back of the  drawer out and handed it to the waiting man. He traded her some clothes for it and he left just as pleased as the last before she turned to her. Octavia only smiled. “And if the worst happens, you can concentrate on giving me a grandchild.” _

_ Octavia snorted and then laughed. “Don’t I need a partner for that?” _

_ “I have a few potentials lined up.” _

_ “And I bet every single one of them will tell me to give up my sword.” she said and drew the blade she had named Maelstrom flame. A gift from Nyssa and Kio. “I bet this Bellamy would–” _

_ “Would that really be so bad? Putting your sword away? This life you’re after isn’t the only path there is. I remember you used to tell me that you wanted to be, oh what was it now? An explorer?” _

_ “Yeah, and exploring is what led me into the path of a warrior,” she smirked and ducked her head. “I’m not like the other girls around here, I like being outside the walls with Nyssa and Lincoln. I like training.” _

_ “Lincoln, hmm? Which one is he again? The handsome one from Trikru? He’s a healer right?” She’d  looked up thoughtfully. “I can see you two making a fine pair, beautiful babies.” Aurora nodded and bent at the waist to retrieve a vial of clear liquid and handed it to the elderly woman who’d entered, “A drop or two of this in his tea and he’ll be feeling better in no time.” She said. The woman smiled and then left. She turned. “He could be the right man for you darling.” _

_ “He’s my friend.” _

_ “All the more better.” _

_ “Lincoln doesn’t think I should be a warrior either,” she said. “He’d ask me to put my sword away.” _

_ Another hum for an response. “Mm, he’s smart too,” her gaze strayed and Octavia followed it to her shoulder and upper arm, “Well enough…” _

_ “Not this again,” she snorted. “My tattoos were my choice.” _

_ “Your initiation you mean.” _

_ “Mom, please… Back to the topic?” _

_ “Right, Lincoln–” _

_ “Bellamy?” _

_ “Bellamy? he’s—”   _

“ _ — _ My boyfriend. I haven’t… he isn’t…” she bit her bottom lip. “I think he’s dead.”

“Hey,” Octavia knelt down in front of the girl and took notice of her: her face was pale and there were purple bruises under her eyes. She looked so tired. “You don’t know that. He’s okay. Probably looking for you too,” she said quietly. She tried to adopt Nyssa’s tone when she was soothing the Kripa children after training. She hoped it wasn’t a lie. Nyssa would have found the other group by now; if she were able to before _Azgeda_ did. She wouldn’t know until they rendezvoused at Lincoln Cave.

“Octavia is right.” Clarke knelt beside them and smiled. “ I think you should eat something. And then come with us. We’ll scout around the area a little longer, keep an eye out for our supplies and the others. We might find this boyfriend of yours.”

That seemed to have caught her attention. Alison looked up, a hopeful shine in her eyes. “Do you think so?”

“Well, I found her yesterday.” Clarke squeezed Octavia’s shoulder.

“Well… technically I found you. But the details don’t matter with my head injury and all.” From her pocket she brought out one of those disgusting nutrition packets and handed it over. “You should probably eat something.” Alison ripped the pack open and tore in the bar, chewing twice, then swallowing and starting over until it was gone. Octavia grinned at that. “Well look at that. I totally just saved the day a second time. And it’s all thanks to my stealing.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. She mumbled, “Oh shut up,” as she pulled Alison to her feet and they continued along.

Octavia followed. All the while thinking back to the name Bellamy, wondering if it were a coincidence, or if it were possible that her older brother was somehow among of these people who’d fallen from the sky.

* * *

 

_Days on Earth: 1_

_Numbers of Survivors: 49_

_Missing: 51_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Maun-de: Mount Weather  
> Maunon: Mountain men  
> Kom: from, of, with  
> Maun-de kom Maunon: Mount weather of the Mountain men
> 
> Whaaat like a chapter so soon? No way! Yes way. This is what happens when a beta helps me. Faster chapters. Haha. I hope you enjoys it. Sorry for the mistake and erros.. yadda yadda... leave comment and give me Kudos~ they are apprently what feul me~ And... phew... I'll update within the week hopefully


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more canon this time around. River snakes and glowing forests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. I thank my handsome friend Perry, who does most of my Perry related scenes. He is delightful. He is the only character (fic wise) that I own. I’d like to thank my beta reader Sarah, who pointed out anything that didn’t make sense or needed edits as well. She’s totally epic and so fun to talk with.

* * *

“What a beautiful flower.” Alison whispered. She crouched down to stroke one of the petals of a Sumac plant; a purple flower with a yellow center. It must have been an hour or so since they’d moved on together as a larger group. During that time they’d come across a wide trail covered in knee-high growth and littered with plants. Every so often they would stop, just long enough for Clarke to scribble in her journal or spend ten or so minutes looking around for anything they might have lost in their crash before they continued on. No one said anything and even Octavia had to admit that it was far too quiet in this part of the forest. There were no animals, no insects. Nothing. Where were they? It was like they were hiding. She watched Alison pluck the flower and place it in her hair. “It’s gorgeous.” she said.

Octavia felt mischievous. “Extremely. But it’s also called Poison Sumac.”

“Poison?!” Alison ripped the flower— along with a few strands— out of her hair. “It is? How long do I have?”

Octavia laughed. She plucked a petal from one of the flowers, placed it into her mouth, and chewed slowly. “It’s not poisonous. Medicinal actually.”

“How do you know that?” Perry asked, “Another plant in your mother's book?”

She shook her head. “No, my friend Kio actually. He’s all into plants and stuff. Wanted to be a doctor.” she said. She thought briefly of him. Sweet Kio, a boy whom she shared a different level of closeness with. Had he heard of her acceptance within the Kripa? Kio was just another person among them who had accepted her and she’d had grown so close to him. Something that her mother and Nyssa had always teased her on because they seemed like a couple. He was like Lincoln, a healer that belonged to Odessa and the Kripa… her eyes wandered and met Clarke’s. The blonde was looking at her. “It actually has a few other uses. We should collect some on our way back along with the peppermint.” Octavia hastily continued.

“Good idea.” Clarke nodded. “We need to move a little faster and remember to keep an eye out for more people or our items alright?”

“How can you block all this out?” Alison asked. She was leaned over the flowers again. Octavia could understand, at least a little. She tried to imagine what they must be feeling, how it all looked to them. Everything was so new to these people. From what her mother had told her, they had probably expected the Earth to be a lifeless wasteland; but to find that it wasn't? It must have been mind blowing. Octavia wondered how Clarke could block it out as well.

“Come on, hold up for a second, Princess.” Jasper’s sudden voice shouted after them. It was followed by a strange, eerily familiar sound. Octavia blinked. It was the kind of sound she recognized that came from the trainees on their first day of training, the ones who ran too long or from the Elder Kripas who told tales of their younger years but grew too winded to finish.

Jasper was wheezing. She turned on the spot, arched a brow and saw him slowly shuffling through the foliage, struggling to keep up. He leaned on the nearest tree for support and gasped. “The air's so clean I can’t breathe!”

“The cons of filtered air against Earth's purest.” Alison laughed. She jogged up to Clarke and turned alongside her, so close that their shoulders shoved together. Clarke stumbled slightly.

“I wasn’t expecting this to be a power walk,” Jasper wheezed. “Can’t we slow down a little?”

“No we can’t,” Clarke told him. “We have to figure out at least a basic outline of where we are before we head back.”

“And I get that, I really do. But if we don’t slow down I’m gonna die!” He coughed. Octavia wondered if he had a defect in his breathing. _‘Asthmatic’_ she knew the term was. Well, that would make him less desirable to Odessa if he was. “How do you think my buddy Monty and I got caught in the first place? I run as well as a little girl!”

Perry laughed, probably at the honest declaration. “I gotta know and I know the ladies wanna know too. What did you do to get busted?” He leapt onto a log before turning back to face them.

“Well they grow all sorts of _‘medicinal’_ plants in the herb gardens, if you know what I mean.” Jasper wheezed. “Well, my buddy,” he lifted the shoe tied around his neck. “Monty, forgot to replace what we took so we got caught and because I run like a little girl, I tripped over a guardsman’s baton and managed to pull him down with me.”

“Ouch. Well that pretty much sucked.” Octavia said and she grinned, stepping to Clarke’s side.

“Ah! But Monty is my best friend, the other half of my soul. If I was bound to go down how could I have not taken him with me?”

“Such a romantic.” Octavia mused and she looked over to Alison. “And since we’re swapping stories, how about you, Alison? What’d they get you for?” The other blonde turned to walk backwards and glowered.

“Oh, you know, being cute and innocent, but mainly because I have a thing for older men.” Perry snorted. Clarke shot him a look of silence but Alison ignored him completely. “And you? Octavia?”

“I’m just a thief,” Octavia shrugged. “I stole. I got caught and now I’m here.” she lied. A simple lie was an easier one to stick too.

“Perry?” Alison asked.

“Stealing rations for a family next door. Their mother was sick, kid was starving, and I just did my duty of keeping them fed.” Perry shrugged.

“We make quite the group of delinquents.” mused Alison as she moved ahead quickly. Octavia watched her go and she suddenly dropped into a crouch. For a moment Octavia feared something was wrong but Alison looked over her shoulder and quickly motioned the rest of them over. Clarke went first, keeping herself low and moving slowly, then the boys followed. Octavia drew her bow and an arrow before she joined them. She stopped besides Alison and her eyes slowly widened. There was a grayish brown buck standing in the clearing across from them, grazing on the dry grass beneath it; the last thing she expected to see.

The first sign of life. Well for them. Octavia watched Clarke slowly stand and turn her head as if looking for something. She stood on the tips of her toes and faced the trees, frowning after a moment. She smiled from where she crouched, the look of wonder on Clarke’s face as she searched just made the blonde even more beautiful. The faint chirping of birds in the background was beautiful. And the way the sun caught the blonde locks made the scene seem a thing of fanta– The animals. Octavia realized. For whatever reason they were announcing themselves and Clarke must have been looking for them. But the branches here were too thick and from that expression, she knew just hearing the birds’ joyful song would not be enough for Clarke.

“Guess you were wrong about the animals being killed off.” Octavia whispered. Clarke smiled and reached for the trees.

“I want to see them… the animals.” she whispered, her voice so full of such awe that Octavia couldn't help but reach up with her, touching the palm of her hand to the back of Clarke's.

“Then quit looking at the trees and look at the deer.” she lowered their hands together, slowly moving back to their low crouch before they shuffled over to where the boys had joined Alison.

“Let's get a closer loo–” Jasper stepped forward slowly and snapped a branch beneath his foot.

The buck shot its head up at the sound. One ear flickering back and forth, alert, before its eyes found them. They all gasped—except for Octavia—and flinched back in surprise. That was expected. At first glance the buck looked normal: brown fur, spindly legs, and tapered ears, but the head and face were a different story: A hairless, misshapen second head had grown off the side of the buck’s face, just under the ear, and while the far deformed eye socket was empty the ones between the heads had merged into an oversized black pupil. Of course would have stunned them. It was hardly a surprise to Octavia. A lot of the animals were mutated. And as the buck bounded away a moment later, all she could think of was how impressive it would have been if she had killed it.

“What the hell was that?” Jasper gagged.

“The radiation must have mutated the wildlife here.” Clarke answered. She turned her head away.

“That’s not going to happen to us, is it?” Octavia asked with fake concern. She knew little of how radiation worked but knew the given basics. It took hundreds of years or so for the biology and genes of any creature that survived to mutate.

“No, it’d have to take years for that to affect us. We’ll be okay. And if there was still radiation we’d know.”

“How?”

“We’d be dead,” Clarke mumbled. “Let keep moving guys.”

 

❖

 

By the late afternoon the heat was almost torturous for the group, even for Octavia. The sun was relentless through the trees and while the branches and light breeze offered some relief it also created a surreal feeling as the wind shook the leaves, making the light and shadows dance strangely around them. And though they were all exhausted, Clarke still kept to her task, noting things in her journal.

Then they saw it. There just beyond a line of trees, the sun shone off the shimmering surface of a stream of water. Clarke gasped and Octavia fought the urge to smile. It hadn’t been easy leading them here while pretending not to know where she was going, but she had done it.

Perry whistled and ran and hand through his hair. “Wow, you don’t see that every day.”

“No you do not…” Clarke said breathlessly.

“Right?” Octavia couldn’t help but smile that time, she did that a lot today she noticed. She heard each of the boys holler a cheer and Alison quickly pushed past the rest of them. Jasper followed quickly in tow. _Like a puppy. What breed was that…? A golden retriever?_ She looked out towards the edge of the water.

“I think we just solved our water problem.” Clarke looked so happy as she spoke. The wide smile that split across her face was gorgeous. Then as she moved towards the edge, she walked right into Jasper. “Why’d yo–”

“Oh damn, I love Earth,” Jasper said. Octavia looked to see and found that his mouth was curled into a smile on one side. Following his line of sight, Octavia could hardly blame him. Her jaw dropped and she heard Perry whistle from behind her. Alison, for whatever reason, was stripping herself of both her jacket and pants. An odd heat rushed to Octavia’s cheeks and she couldn’t help but stare: Alison was very beautiful. Now nearly naked, she looked quite healthy. She had tan flawless skin and long legs. And since she was looking, Octavia had to say that she had a rather hard time taking her eyes away from Alison’s butt. It looked firm, round and, she jerked her head away. Her eyes fell on Clarke and saw she was looking too!    

“Oh! Holy mother of…” Perry whispered, getting closer. He folded his arms and leaned on Jasper for support.

“You think they made her like that?” Jasper asked.  

“You can’t make them like that on the Ark. What kind of woman undresses like that in the open?” Perry mumbled so quietly that Octavia was sure only she’d heard him. She saw him blush before he looked away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clarke said, surprised. Alison looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Going for a swim.” Alison blew her a kiss, perched on the edge of the cliff and jumped off into the water.

“Alison!” Clarke shouted. Octavia peered over the edge in surprise. Could sky people even swim? When there was no sign of her she felt a panic rise. What if she drowned? She was supposed to keep them safe. Right? Be one of them and all of that. She was so busy looking for some sign of her she hadn’t noticed that Alison came up and floated on the other side of the cliff, or that Jasper was hurrying to take off his boots until she heard Clarke's relieved, _‘There she is.’_

“We should probably head back soon, I don’t think we should go too far.” Clarke told them.

“What’s your rush? We just got here.” Octavia moaned. She was tired, her muscles ached, her feet were in a serious need of cleaning since she abandoned her boots some time back, and she still smelled. It wasn’t pleasant.

She began stripping. First her pants and then her jacket and lastly her shirt. Perry whistled again and when she turned she was pleasantly taken with the way Clarke stared at her with her jaw dropped, yet again. “What are _you_ doing?” her voice came out garbled.

Octavia smiled. “Getting some of this sweat off?”  

Clarke blushed. “I noticed.” She looked away from her and moved to a lower bank of the cliff. Octavia followed and they joined Perry, who had moved and already picked out a spot to bask there. Clarke reached her hand into the water before she pulled her shoes off and socks off, then dipped her feet in and moaned. It was an innocent sound but it brought a deep heat to Octavia’s cheeks nonetheless. She left her bow and arrows at the water's edge and stepped inside thankful at that moment for the cold water. It felt so good on her skin. She rested back a bit and floated on her back before she submerged herself into the deepest part of it, emerging a moment later.

Clarke was watching her intently. Octavia grinned and threw her hand out, splashing water at her as she did.

“Hey!” she yelped, covering her face. “Come on don’t do that, we don’t even know how non-toxic the water is yet.”

“Considering none of us are melting and writhing in agony, I’d say we're fine. So take off your damn clothes and get in.”

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” Clarke sneered, she kicked some water at her and Octavia splashed back in answer.

“Swimming could be fu– Oh yeah, feels like heaven, boss,” Perry sighed. Octavia looked over and saw him dipping his feet in the water.

“I can’t swim.” she told him, but she was looking at Octavia.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you've noticed,” Perry motioned his hand around towards Octavia, where the water reached as high as her chest nearly. “I think it’s safe to say that you can stand.”

“I guess you have a point there…” she sighed and looked up. Octavia moved towards the bank. She wondered what Clarke was thinking about. The Ark? Her mother? Did they all know yet? That their world was dying. A world her own mother had once belonged to. Clarke looked so sad staring up at the sky and Octavia wanted her to smile again.

Clarke’s brow crinkled and she closed her eyes. A moment past before she opened them again and looked at her. Clarke's eyes were nearly as blue as the sky. Just more beautiful. Octavia wondered just how long she’d been staring at the other girl.

“It’s better, you know? Than I expected.”

“Much better.” Octavia said softly. Clarke smiled at her and her stomach flipped. What was wrong with her? Alison squealed just then and Octavia looked quickly to see Jasper pushing her under the water's surface.

“Much better.” Perry swung his legs back and forth. “Well except the deer, that was just creepy as hell.” he shuddered and then smirked at the both of them.

Clarke laughed at that. “I wish I could be so excited about it, like a normal person.. Just throw everything down for a second and not worry about fights or how to survive. Have more moments like this.”

Octavia flicked some more water at her. “You could,” she said. She imagined Clarke shoving her backwards and jumping in after her. Imagined her wet and laughing. And wet… Octavia blinked as she shook her head, sending droplets flying.

“Nah, it’ll ruin my pole-up-the-ass image,” Clarke laughed shielding herself with her hand.

“Whatever, be a priss.” Octavia grinned and she held her hand out, “Help me up.”

“A priss? Mmm, rude.” Clarke snorted. Still she took her hand firmly and pulled. Meeting some resistance she arched a brow.  Octavia’s face filled with mirth. Clarke gave her a warning glare. “I swear to go–”

She did it fast: Octavia jerked her arm. Clarke gasped. And the splash came. She went under fully clothed and when Clarke emerged from the water, Octavia pushed her back under by the head and then moved around to splash her in the face when she came up again.

“You’re a brat!” she snarled without anger, shaking the water from her head. “Okay,” she breathed and floated a moment. “Okay. Maybe I could relax for just a minute.”

“Gotta remove that pole every once in awhile.” Octavia said.

“Oh shut up,” Clarke splashed her. She turned back to the edge of the water and began climbing out. Oh no. Not when she just got her here. Octavia reached out and pulled at the back of her pants. Clarke spun and she was so close when she did. They brushed against one another. Chest to chest. Eyes staring into one another. Octavia felt like she was being pulled into her eyes they were so blue.

“Hey, pass me one of those bottles,” Octavia whispered.

Clarke nodded stiffly, turned and damn it, Octavia couldn’t help but turn her gaze down and stare at the way her wet clothing hung to her body. She wondered how inappropriate it would be if she… “Here.” There was a bottle in her face.

“Thanks,” she opened and plunged it into the water, filling it up completely before she capped it and took the next bottle. They worked in silence and when they finally finished Clarke surprised her by turning that last time and stared at her.

“Well… you got me here. Now what?” she whispered.

 _Would it be inappropriate to kiss a skai person?_ She wondered and opened her mouth to answer.

“What the hell is that?” Perry said suddenly. He was sitting up, pulling his feet quickly out of the water before he reached down to pull Clarke out after him.

“What’s wrong?” she gasped.

Perry didn’t answer. He pointed and Octavia wheeled around. Her eyes widened at what she saw. There was a protrusion in the water, something just below the surface. It was moving fast whatever it was, parting the water into a wide arrow behind it as it moved. She could just make out a darker outline of whatever it was and a slight gray-ish shimmer that peeked above the surface. Something metal almost, and it was speeding up. When it drew closer to Alison and into the shallower water of the shore the shape became more pronounced: a long teardrop at least 10 feet long and two feet wide.

It was another mutation. A water snake! Oh for the love of… How could she have overlooked the possibilities?! It was the season for giant man-eating mutated snakes!

“Alison, Jasper, get out of the water. Get out of the water now!” She shouted, but it was too late. The creature grabbed Alison and she screamed, a high sound that wrenched itself from her chest before she was pulled under the water. Everything stilled, the air grew quiet and all anyone could do was stare, wide-eyed and beyond shock. Seconds felt like minutes before, thankfully, Alison rose back to the surface on the other side of the bank. She was screaming and kicking her legs until the creature grabbed hold of her and continued to drag her through the water, thrashing her about like she was some kind of ragdoll.

“Alison!” Jasper shouted. He’d climbed out of the water just as Octavia heaved herself out and went for her bow. She moved quickly, nearly shoving Perry into the water in the process as she hurried back up the rocks for a better viewpoint.

“First the deer, now this? What the hell is that?” shouted Perry.

“I don’t know but we have to help her.” Clarke turned a full circle before she noticed Jasper preparing himself to jump in. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna save her.” he said.

“And kill you both?” Clarke said in disbelief. “No, we have to... to...” she was waving her hand as she struggled with the thought. She heard a splash then. Perry was throwing stones at the creature from the lower bank, causing the water to ripple. “Ah ha! If we can distract it first, it might let her go so you can get her. Here, help me. Jasper get ready!” Clarke shouted.

They joined Perry while Octavia loaded her bow and took aim. “Hurry up!” she shouted just as the three of them worked a larger stone over and pushed it into the water. The stone dropped into the water with a wet thump, sending waves across the surface that immediately lured the creature away from Alison. Octavia saw it circle around to where she was and fired off an arrow. It went whizzing through the air and into the water, missing. She swore and took a second aim.

“It let go of her!” She heard Jasper shout, “Alison get to the shore!” Then there was the  splash of him jumping into the water. The creature turned around once again, attracted by Jaspers splash.

“Come on! The shore! The shore!” Perry shouted. “Hurry! It’s coming back!” Octavia took careful aim until she could see its head and fired. Her arrow struck and a moment passed before she saw blood rise to the surface of the water. It wasn’t a fatal shot because the creature swam deeper under the water and disappeared. Not that it mattered at that point, Perry was already pulling both Jasper and Alison out of the water by the time she joined the rest of them.

Alison was bleeding and Clarke was on her knees to inspect the wound. Octavia saw three lacerations, each an inch or two long along her thigh. “Jasper, thank you. Thank you.” Alison gasped. She pulled him into a tight embrace and kissed him. The tips of Jasper's ears reddening as he blushed. When Alison let him go, he and Perry carefully moved her a little further away from the water. Clarke followed.

“Nice shooting.” Perry said.

“Would have been better if I got it in one shot, instead of losing two arrows,” Octavia frowned.

“Hey, You did good.”

“Thanks…” she crouched down at Clarke’s side and watched the blonde at work. The  first thing Clarke did was reach into her pack for the brew of alcohol and her sewing kit,  sanitizing a needle before she threaded it and turned her attention downward towards the wound. “So? How is she”

“Thanks to you and Jasper,” Clarke looked up, “I think she’ll be fine.” Octavia nodded and both she and Clarke found Alison watching with a look of concentration as Clarke went to work.

“Your mom teach you that? You know, the medical junk?” she hissed.

 _Medical junk,_ Octavia snorted as Clarke _‘mhmed’_ her response.

“Yeah, she did. But I did my apprenticeship in medicine because I wanted to help people.” she shrugged a shoulder. “Plus, us Privileged get to learn from the best.” she said. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when Alison snorted.

“Yeah, well best the thing my mother taught me was how to sew–” she hissed when Clarke began to stitch and Octavia had to look away at the first couple of passes. “I’m pretty sure that's a useless trait.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s pretty handy.”

“Oh sure… for like sewing drapes and all.” Alison said dryly.

“Hey!” Octavia chimed. “Didn’t you know that if you can sew some drapes you’re practically a surgeon? Pretty soon you’ll be sewing hideous wounds until you puke.” she grinned.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up. It’s a good trait because it can be used as field treatment. And I don’t know about Octavia,” Clarke looked at her, “but I feel a lot better knowing I can stitch up any injuries before wrapping them.” she paused before adding.  “I bet my mother would have come up with some better alternative, but It’ll work.” Clarke murmured. She looked to the underside of her wrist for a long moment.

“A Limiter?” Alison asked.

 _‘A Limiter? What was that?’_ Octavia wondered.

Clarke nodded. “Yeah. Do you have one?”

“Yep, see here?” Alison turned over her free wrist and Octavia leaned over to look. Right there under her wrist was a green light. And again she wondered what the hell it was. She’d never seen that on anyone, not even her own mother. Was it on? It was green and green lights normally meant something was on. “You’d think that after we landed they’d turn the fucking things off. Would have been helpful, especially in the water.”

“Oh yeah?” Clarke hummed. “You have an ability with water?” Clarke looked at her, then to Octavia who shrugged.

So that’s what they were? These Limiters were some kind of thing to block abilities? How many of them had one? Knowing that they even had these capabilities upped how useful Odessa would find them, or how much more dangerous they could be. She just needed to figure out what they did. Alison's would be first.

“Yeah, nothing special though, water tricks you know?” Alison waved her hand around dismissively.

“So what’s next? Can we keep going or do we need to head back?” Octavia asked. She looked at Alison who continued to watch Clarke as she finished the stitching and began bandaging the leg.

“I think we should head back. I can treat this wound better back at the camp. We’ll have to take it easy.” she said as she pulled a little too tightly on her makeshift bandage and Alison hissed again. “I don’t want that injury getting irritated. Here…” Clarke reached into her packing, retrieved the antibiotics, and placed two in the palm of Alison’s hand. “This should help. Let me know if it starts to hurt, alright?” She rubbed Alison's knee before she stood.  

“I think we’re gonna be camping here tonight, Boss.” Perry said. “It’ll be dark soon.”

“He’s right,” Octavia nodded.

“Shit…” Alison mumbled. She was looking down at her wrist band; the main light had gone dark. “I think that damn thing broke it.” she said.   

“Nothing we could have done about that. As long as everyone else keeps theirs on we should be alright.”

“Do these things really matter all that much?” Octavia asked. She carefully helped Alison to a stand and they watched her limp her way over to Jasper and Perry.

“Yes, these wristbands are all we have now. With the communication system dead, the Ark doesn’t know what’s happened to us. And if they think we're dying, then they won’t think it's safe for them to follow.” Clarke told her. She looked up at Octavia and sighed.

They took some time to lay their clothes out to dry and let Alison rest before heading back. It also let Jasper’s breathing even out from his awkward gasps after his heroic rescue. He stayed close to Alison who was still only in her underclothes.

Octavia stared out at the water from where they were and let her mind process all that she’d seen until she noticed her shadows behind her, now nearly twice as tall as she was. She heard the boys murmuring, and when she turned Alison was pointing upward at the tinged sky.

She heard Clarke gasp as she followed their gaze. It was just another sunset to her, but to them it was something new. She supposed that they hadn’t really allowed themselves to take it in the first night after all.

The sky had exploded into color; streaks of orange appeared in the blue, followed by yellow and then pink. It reminded her of the colored clay cakes Koi had once made her when they were little. The darker it got the sharper and more beautiful the colors became. Octavia watched Clarke. Watched as she tilted her head back. Watched the way her eyes widened in awe. How her mouth slightly parted as she witnessed something she had probably only ever dreamed about.

When their clothes dried, the sky was fully darkened. Clarke told the rest of them that they would make camp for the night. No one argued. They moved a little further away from the river after speculation that the river creature might walk on land and that was just something Octavia didn’t know, but also didn’t want to test. Without the rays of the sun the occasional gentle breezes had become an infrequent cold wind that already had them shivering.

Jasper and Perry set off to collect some wood, while Octavia dug a fire pit and listened to Alison and Clarke go on about the sunset they just witnessed.  

“Here, hungry?” Perry asked. When he returned he tossed one of those food packs at Clarke and then one to her. Octavia made a face. Great. She looked over at Clarke, who tore her’s open and bit into it right away.

“Oh god I needed this.” she moaned softly, she smiled at Perry “How is it you know what I need when I need it?”

Perry sat next to her and smiled, passing a pack to Alison. “A magician never reveals his secrets, my lady.”

“A magician huh? Why didn’t you pull out a five star meal then?” Alison sneered. Octavia smirked, trying not to gag on the nutrition bar. _God was this food?_

“Hey now! I am but a lowly street magician and a feat of that size is something that Houdini himself could never pull off,” Perry paused, looking at her sideways. “Not without a working kitchen and a lovely assistant.” He bumped his shoulder into Alison.

“Who’s Houdini?” Octavia asked. She had never been one of those people who paid attention to the attractions that once were very large on earth. Not unless they had been comics.

“From what I remembered, or what Wells had told me once, Houdini was a magician who had been struck in the abdomen several times and ruptured his appendix, then ran a high fever and refused to seek medical help until it was too late and not even surgery would save his life.” Clarke said with an automatic tone. “That’s all I know though.”

“Oh, you poor soul.” Perry laid a hand over his heart. “If we survive this, I have so much to tell you about the illustrious world of magic!” He threw his hands out and wiggled his fingers dramatically.

“Is it something we need to know? Is it going to keep us alive?” Octavia asked. Perry looked at her and grinned.

“I said _‘if we survive’_ my dear. Meaning after we are safe and sound and with everyone else back on the Ark!” he poked her forehead. “No use filling your head with the confusing world of magic until then.”

Octavia looked at him for a moment, then at Clarke, who shrugged. She looked troubled. “You know we’re not going back to the Ark right?” she said.

Perry waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I meant, Boss. After we’re safe and sound. Back with the rest of our new family.”

“You’re so… hopeful. How do you know that none of this is going to be for nothing? Being sent to the ground?” Octavia asked. She couldn’t help but wonder that. After everything they’d been through: went to the ground for their dying home without enough food or supplies and pretty much used as guinea pigs for this great leader of theirs. Still this boy smiled and made jokes, all with a big stupid grin on his face.

Perry chuckled. “I don’t, but what I do know is that we won’t know for sure if it was for nothing until we finish this...” he paused and shrugged his shoulder. “Test, I guess.”

“Maybe I should be a little more open-minded.” she said quietly.

That night as she lay awake on a bed of moss, Octavia found It was nearly impossible to sleep as the forest around them was lit in its mysterious glow. Something she always liked. It was brighter than it could ever be during the day, so alive in its soft blue glow and cool night air. She preferred the night over the day. Looking over her shoulder she found the three _skai-people_ fast asleep. Jasper and Perry were side-by-side on a mossy hill, leaning against a tree. Jasper had his head tipped back, mouth open and a horrible sound emanating from it while Perry was a more silent sleeper with his arms folded and legs crossed. Next to them, Alison slept near them, wearing their combined jackets for warmth.

Octavia sat up. Clarke was in the clearing just beyond some trees. Reaching around for Clarke's pack, she carefully pulled it open for a bottle of water before she rose and  moved slowly across the clearing, near the closest tree and watched her. Clarke was looking at the flowers: as beautiful in their glow as the trees were. They were fanned out by the chill breeze rustling their petals. The chirping of the insects and their song was carried on that same breeze, a whisper first, then a hymn. It was a sound of pure madness. Granted it was a beautiful madness, but it was madness all the same. Octavia moved closer until she was behind the other girl.

Clarke reached out to touch one of the flowers almost hesitantly. She knew what she felt and wondered how hard it must have been for Clarke, for all of them, to imagine what earth was like. Did they think that there would ever be a chance that there would be glowing plants here or was it odd to them? Right now as Clarke touched the flower she would feel it pulsing beneath her palm like a beating heart so warm and, like everything else, alive.

If only she wasn’t feeling mischievous again. “Pretty cool, huh?” Octavia leaned in and whispered in her ear.

Clarke whirled around and slid into a defensive stance as she came face to face with her. Octavia arched a brow and smiled at her before she pressed the water-filled bottle into her hands.

“Thirsty?”

“Is that water from the river?” She looked down at the water and up again. Octavia nodded and Clarke looked down at the bottle again. She made a face.

“The idea of drinking river water without sanitizing it… My mother would kill me  just for considering it.” she began softly, slowly twisting the cap. “With all the bacteria and parasites just waiting to house themselves in my body.  But…” She pressed it to her lips and drank heavily.

“So, how long do you think it’s going to take for us all to grow a second head?” Octavia teased.

Clarke sputtered, water shooting everywhere when she laughed. She glanced at Octavia with a _“look”_ and she shrugged and grinned back at her. Octavia finished the rest of the water as Clarke wiped her mouth and said, “I wanna show you something,” before she turned and walked away.

Octavia followed, looking over her shoulder when they moved a little further from where the others were sleeping. Clarke crouched down, and motioned her over.

“What is it?”     

“Those are toes.” she pointed around indentation in the ground. “Whatever it is, it’s walking on two feet. Octavia looked down with wide eyes before she touched the print. Fresh. Were Warriors out there?” She looked towards the trees. Enemies or friends? She wondered. She looked at Clarke who was waiting, eagerly it appeared.

“Monkeys.” she said with a matter of fact tone.

Clarke snorted before slapping a hand over her mouth but gave a muffled giggle anyways. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, really. Just from everything I remember reading, bipedal animals died out a long time ago, there shouldn’t be anything like that anywhere near here.”

“And I’m sure you read about glow-in-the-dark forests or man-eating snakes?” Octavia  rolled her eyes.  

“No. I guess you’re right,” she said, looking down at the print. She had a look on her face. And again Octavia wondered…

“Anything like you expected?” she said out loud.

“Not at all.” she answered, “It's worrisome.”

“Worrisome?” Octavia scoffed, “How can you say that when we're in a place like this?”

“After today's incident at the river, I can’t help but think about the other dangers we haven't faced yet.” Clarke said softly. “I’m not going to argue that this place isn’t amazing or comforting, but it means so little when we have no idea what we’re up against.” She looked at her then over at the others. “I’ll admit that the ground is beautiful, especially all of this,” she motioned around them. “But it’s still dangerous. That’s already been proven. You really saved Alison today, Octavia.”  

Octavia ducked her head and smiled. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Well, you could. But I'm sure that’d be pretty pointless.” Clarke smiled. She looked up, where the Ark was and pointed. “Theres the Ark…”

“How do you think they're doing up there?” Octavia looked up. “You think that guard whose face you smashed in is alright?”

Clarke gaped. "Oh god you saw that?"

“Nope, Perry told me about it. But, where does a _‘Privileged’_ girl like you even learn how to fight like that?" Octavia looked back at her. She’d been wondering this since the fight.

Clarke looked down at her hands. “My father taught me as much as he could before…” she smiled and shrugged. “Weird right? Who’s ever heard of a doctor who fights?”

“It’s not that weird.” Octavia shrugged. At least she could take care of herself. Made her more useful as a healer who can be out there in the field, rather than staying behind in a village and hope it wouldn’t be too late when the warriors reached her.  

“No, it's weird. Not routine because doctors should be healers and non-violent. But then I guess I’ve never been very routine and when my father was more than eager to teach me…” She turned away for a moment and wiped her face before she turned back. What about you? Any other loved ones missing you?"

“Just my mom probably? I bet she’s totally freaking right now,” _if she knew about my mission_. “I wonder if she knew about sending us down.” Octavia paused before she looked at her. “Why do you think they thought we had a chance when the last ones didn’t?” She asked. Clarke looked at her in surprise. Like maybe she didn’t think Octavia would know something like that? Octavia frowned. Just a little wounded.

“400 years difference. They failed last time. So maybe they thought that it would be different this time.” Clarke said finally.

“Guess they were right, we’re still alive, ”Octavia rolled back on her heels and stood before she extended a hand out for her. Clarke took it and she pulled her to her feet. “What about you? Parents worried? Or a boyfriend, fiancé,” Octavia fished, feeling rather daring tonight, “or some lover up there waiting for you?” Something flashed in Clarke’s eyes before she dropped Octavia’s hand and stepped away from her. Her face flush.

“No, no boyfriend. I play uh… for the other team. But no girlfriend either.” she said quickly and walked away. Octavia only grinned and watched her go before she followed behind.

Perry was awake when they returned to the camp, standing in the middle of a small mossed valley, staring into the the directions of some trees. She and Clarke joined him.

“What’s wrong?” Octavia asked.

Perry whirled so suddenly a rock flew out of his hand and struck against a glowing tree stump. Octavia looked at him with a look of amusement.

“I thought I saw something,” Perry said. “In the trees.”

Clarke shrugged. “Probably monkeys.” she said. He looked at her like she’d just shoved her foot in his mouth. She motioned to Octavia and added, “We found a footprint.”

Perry nodded. Plucking another rock from the ground he threw it into the trees, waited, and released the breath he had been holding. “Monkeys huh?”

“And you thought _I_ was paranoid.” Clarke laughed. “Come on, let's sleep together.”

“Whoa, whoa! at least buy me dinner first!” Perry said in a mock offended tone, hands held up with the most amusing looking on his face Octavia had ever seen.

“I play for the other team, Perry. So your thing,” she actually motioned to his groin, “isn’t for my thing.” then to hers and chuckled when his mouth slightly gaped. Octavia bit her lip to keep from smiling.

“Who knew how ladylike you were, Princess Clarke.” Perry gave her a mock bow. “Alright, sleep is all we shall do then.”

“Good. Who knows what we’ll have to deal with come morning.” Octavia said. She bid the both of them good night before climbing a tree. Watching as the two of them settled at the bottom of her tree together.

Sometime later when they’d fallen asleep for sure, Octavia silently slipped from the tree, moved past the clearing, and stepped further into the forest.

* * *

_Days on Earth: 1_

_Numbers of Survivors: 49_

_Missing: 51_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Enjoy! Leave a comment or Kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: On the way back to Camp, Clarke and Octavia come across a startling discover and throws the young blonde into the face of her first challenge on the ground.
> 
> Chapter is inspired by: Lost Episode 2 season 1. The 100 Episode 7 Season 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters, all rights go to the original creators. I’d like to thank my friend Sam. She has always been my beta/editor and never ever says no to me. I love her. And I thank my girlfriend, who is a big big motivation when I need her. And I thank my dear sweet and very handsome new writing buddy Perry. The only thing I own are the Characters. Alison Queen and Perry Broden. I’d like to thank my beta reader Sarah, who pointed out anything that didn’t make sense or needed edits as well. She’s totally epic and so fun to talk with.

* * *

 

The sound of splashing water woke Clarke before the harsh string of swears did. She opened her eyes slowly and found Octavia crouched beside Alison, a bloody bandage in one hand. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked with a yawn. She blinked blearily before  wiping at the underside of her eyes.

“Alison’s leg is burning.” Octavia told her. She quickly rose, finding it nearly impossible to do so without prying Perry’s arm from around her waist before she stumbled over to them under the forest’s faint glow.

Alison tossed away the bandages, taking half a water-filled bottle from Octavia’s hand and pouring the water against her skin before hissing through chattering teeth “Holy crap that’s cold!”

“Let see,” she said, pulling Alison’s hand away when she tried to scratch at the wound. She lightly skimmed her fingers over the raw skin. Alison's leg was more swollen and inflamed than she would have liked it to be. The skin around the wound was discolored. It was infected. The antibiotics weren’t working. Clarke thought back to all those nature documentaries she’d seen of predators that poisoned their prey and turned their escape into just a slower death.

“Gonna have to cut it off?” Alison gave a weak chuckle, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.

“It’s just a little infected.” Clarke said, somewhat forcing optimism into her voice. “And no, I think you can keep your leg. I just need something to help the antibiotics to keep it from getting worse. A salve or something.”

“Sumac is good for that.” Octavia said.

“It works on infections?”

“Yeah, it can be made into a salve. Basic really.” She grunted to a stand. “We just need some water and the sumac. Well just the sumec.”

Clarke turned towards her and nodded. “Make that salve as soon as possible. If it works as well as you say then it should at least help with her infection before it gets any worse.” Octavia was gone in an instant, kicking Jasper awake and pulling him away without so much as an explanation or a chance for him to really comprehend the situation.

Alison chuckled when they were gone from sight. “Am I supposed to believe that nothing is wrong with the way everyone is running off? My leg looks like it's going to explode.” she said weakly.

“Your leg isn’t going to explode.” Clarke said. She looked sideways at Alison, to her bare legs, then asked, “Where are your pants?”

“I took them off,” she motioned towards the forest floor where they laid. “They were irritating me.”

“Well you shouldn’t leave it exposed to the air. There’s no telling how the radiation will affect it directly.” Clarke chided. She retrieved the girls pants and found herself helping Alison back into them.

“How do you think the others fared last night?” Alison asked. She balanced against Clarke’s shoulders as she pulled her pants up carefully over her wound. “It was pretty cold last night.”

“I’m sure they were alright. Wells is pretty good when it comes to survival tactics. He was always top of his classes.”

“Oh definitely. I’m sure there’s not a thing the little Prince can’t do.”

Clarke looked up and saw the playful smile on Alisons face. “Do you even know Wells?”

She nodded. “He visited the Sky Box with his father a few years ago. To make sure we were ‘ _comfortable’_. Like anyone would be, being locked away like we were. Anyways, the girls were talking about how cute he was for weeks. He was kind of a dreamboat.” Clarke snorted and smiled as Alison continued. “I asked him if he remembered me… before Jasper and I left. He said he did, but I highly doubt it,” Alison gave a wounded sigh. “Woe is me, my one chance at true love.”

“Woe is you? I feel bad for your Bellamy if he heard you say that.”

“Hey now, don’t go on tattling. Bell is the only one for me,” Alison rolled her head back and sighed, “but if he’s not sleeping around with some floozy right now, I’ll be surprised. Of course I’d kick the little bitch’s ass, because the first person he should even consider sleeping with should be me, but I’m not opposed to having an open relationship. As long as I’m number one.”

“An open relationship,” Clarke repeated. She shook her head and chuckled.“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Oh yeah? Why not? You’re plenty cute.” Alison grinned at her. “I bet you have some handsome boy up there, itching to get back to you. Or maybe here? You and Wells seem like a couple.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Just curious. I kind of have to keep tabs on the relationship statuses of all the pretty girls who came down from the Ark. Who knows? I may need to take out the competition,” Alison said nonchalantly.

Clarke laughed. She shook her head at how easily the girl could say such a thing. “Well, I’m not a part of that competition,” she stepped away. “Now if Bellamy was just an Amy, then you’d have a problem.” Alison opened her mouth, probably to make a comment when something snapped from behind them. She crouched down, grabbed a stone near her foot and threw it into the direction of the noise.

“Ow! Wh-what the…?” came the sudden and rather high pitched voice.

She gasped, glaring at Alison who began cackling when both Octavia and Jasper emerged from the trees.

“What the hell Clarke?”

“Sorry, I thought…” she rubbed her forehead, “Sorry.”   

“Your aim was way off.” She was grinning.

“Speak for yourself.” Jasper snapped, one side of his shirt was lifted and he was looking down at his left side. “Augh...”

“I’m sorry Jasper it was a reflex,” Clarke stepped a little closer to him, lightly touching the exposed area. “Are you alright?”  

“I’m fine. It’ll bruise, but I’ll survive,” he said, lowering his shirt.

Octavia held out the salve, a green paste in a large shell or a hollowed rock. “You should apply this before it dries too much.”

“Thanks, both of you for this,” Clarke gave a small smile and took the salve from her before she returned to Alison's side. “Alright, take your pants off.”

“Hey now, buy a girl a drink first.” Alison said cooly. Clarke laughed softly and Alison continued grinning before she shifted her gaze and stared past her at Jasper. She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind?”

“Oops! Sorry!” he said and turned hesitantly, though they heard him mutter: _“The one chance I get at seeing two ladies undress each other and...”_

“What are you a pubescent teenager?” Octavia said loudly. Jasper looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. She made a face. “Oh, hey, Clarke, I saw some weird stuff when I was wandering around the woods earlier,” She rolled her eyes. Probably at the look she just received and continued, “I think it might be from the crash. Did you wanna check it out? Or are we heading back?”

“What kind of stuff?” Clarke asked.

“Like debris stuff?” Octavia shrugged.

Her heart somersaulted. Debris could be anything. Maybe even parts of their ship, equipment, maybe that black box Perry was looking for, or better, the medical supplies. “Is it close? Let’s go right now.” She said, already moving before realizing she didn’t even know where Octavia had gone. She looked to the other girl for directions and saw Alison.  “I mean… after we finish here.”

“We can try, but the river blocks our way. And it would probably take another day if we have to go in very deep, and well...” she looked down towards Alison.

“Right of course. We can go later, tomorrow maybe?”

Octavia nodded and said, “Sounds like a date.” Clarke turned her attention to the salve, taking some between her fingers. It was perfect. Creamy, smooth, cold too. She would have preferred it to be warmer, only because it would have worked a little bit better and she didn’t care much for the smell, but she wouldn’t complain about it. Just as long as it helped the infection. She pulled the waist of Alison's pants down far enough and applied the salve.

“Holy crap, that’s cold!” Alison squealed.

Clarke smiled at. She kept the blonde still as she spread the salve and once the wound was again wrapped, she helped pull Alison's pants up over her leg and stood one final time. “There we go.”

“Thanks Clarke.”

“No problem.” She smiled. Someone yawned just then. She glanced up and saw Perry, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He looked at them with that same stupid— yet lazy— grin on his face and said, “What's for breakfast, Boss? I don’t know about the rest of you… but I sure could go for some river snake.”

“You think about food too much.” Alison grinned.

“Hey, I’m a growing boy!”

“Outward maybe,” Octavia sneered and quickly added, “He’s right though, we should eat or catch something to eat.” She look up and lowered her voice, “It’s the morning. So it’s perfect to hunt since the animals are probably looking for water.” she told them. Clarke arched a brow, wondering how she could have possibly known that but pressed back the urge to ask.

As they moved away from their place of rest, they somehow ended up following the brunette. Octavia kept to a low crouch most of the time, scanning the ground. Every so often she seemed to find some kind of trail to follow and would go after it with newfound energy. When she’d found a solid trail she followed it, and they followed her as she turned and went deeper into the woods, where the trees were tall and thicker. Clarke breathed in deep, the forest smelled so rich and untamed.

“Pocahontas looks at home.” Perry whispered. She had noticed that too. She didn’t question it though; she wouldn’t. Not yet anyway.

When more light finally began to shine through the sparse canopy of the trees, Octavia reach back for her last arrow. She took aim, and fired a moment later, then she swore and dashed forward. “Get that arrow for me Jasper!” She shouted as she disappeared through the trees. The rest of them quickly followed, and found her with an arm deep in the bottom of a tree. She struggled for a moment, “Ow fuck!” she cried but she never withdrew her arm. “Ow!”

“What are you doing?” Clarke panted. “What’s wrong?”

“It bit me!” She hissed. “You little son of a– ha!” she pulled out a fat brown rabbit by its ears. It looked normal, nothing like that deer earlier. “Breakfast.” she grinned.

“We’re… not going to kill it are we?” Alison asked quietly. Octavia nodded. “What!? No!” she gasped.

“Don’t be a baby.” Octavia rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t we at least learn how to do this stuff? “We need to eat something more than those awful nutrition bars. I for one will eat mud before another one of those things.”

“Okay, but you caught it so you kill it!” Alison hissed.

“Fine.” Octavia said. She reached around and firmly placed her hand on its head. Alison squealed.

“No! Don’t do it here!” Clarke looked towards the other blonde. Alison was in tears. “It's okay Alison,” she said and squeezed her shoulder before she looked back at Octavia who rolled her eyes again, clearly irritated.

“I got ya, doll face.” Perry said. He wrapped an arm around Alison’s shoulder and led her away.

“You don’t think I’m out of line do you?” Octavia asked when they’d gone. Jasper quickly following them, after he’d returned her arrow to her. She looked down at the rabbit and so did Clarke. She would never forget the fear in its eyes, but she shook her head.

“We need to stomach stuff like this if we’re going to survive,” she said softly. “Isn’t there another way to do it though?”

“Do you have a knife?”

Clarke retrieved it from her pocket. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“No… not really,” Octavia paused and looked at her. “Do you want to do it? I mean, I think you’re more qualified for cutting things open.”

“People. Not tiny animals.” Clarke retorted.

“First time for everything…” Octavia sighed and turned her attention to the creature.

When it was done Octavia built their fire. Clarke enjoyed watching her do it, briefly wondering what life for her was like on the Ark that she’d know these things. Octavia had somehow managed to skin the rabbit, then cut it into separate sections that now cooked on sticks, which she had Clarke collect.

The smell of the roasting rabbit made her stomach rumble. It was such an intoxicating, overpowering smell. Like nothing she’d ever imagine. Meat was such a rare thing on the Ark, the only kind she’d ever had, had been dried, and salty. She had loved it nonetheless, but this? This was primal, she supposed the word was. Octavia handed her part of what must have been a leg. Clarke looked up at her and then at the browned meat. “How do you know it’s done?”

“It’s not pink in the middle, see?” She motioned to a middle of the meat.

“And… you want me to try it first?”

“Hey I killed, skinned, and gutted the damn thing and then I even cooked it. The least you can do is take the first bite, you priss.” Octavia half grinned at her.

“True…” Clarke made a face. “What if it’s gross?”

“Then I’ll have to cook it better next time.”

Clarke looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “Okay, I’m trusting you…” she said and took the piece between her hands and took a bite.  It was… good. Really, really good! The outside was a little tough but her teeth sank right through and flavor flooded her mouth. She was worried that it would make her sick but after that first bite she decided that would be a problem left over for another time as she stuffed her face with more of the meat off the stick. It must have been all over her face what she thought as Octavia laughed and picked up a stick for herself.

Jasper walked towards her as she picked more meat off the stick and she looked up to greet him, but the look on his face caught her off-guard. He stared at her with a look of seriousness that just didn’t fit him.

“Is it true?” He asked loudly.

“Is what true?” She swallowed the bite of food she had and wiped her mouth.

“That the Ark is dying?” She looked around him towards Perry who only shrugged and frowned. He looked away and she was sure he'd started to whistle.

“Yes Jasper, it’s true.” Clarke turned back to him just as Octavia placed a piece of meat in his hand, then slipped around him towards Perry and Alison.

“Let them rot.” Alison said thickly as Octavia reached her. She didn’t know if it was from anger or sadness, maybe both. “After what they did to me, I say float them all.”

“You don’t mean that, Alison.” Jasper turned.  

“Yeah, I really do. What they did to me? I get it, lock me up for some stupid, underaged crime, but they floated my parents. I’m the one who did something wrong but they had to die? And what about what they did to Bellamy? I hope they all rot in hell.” Alison said through gritted teeth.

“I know how you feel Alison. But, there are innocent people who don’t deserve to die. You can’t be greedy and not think about them.” Octavia told her. Alison looked away, the anger still in her eye and Clarke understood a little bit. Because between all five of them, Alison deserved to be here the least.

When they were fed and satisfied, with more than a few complimenting words to Octavia, they continued on their way silently. The way back to the camp was easier then it had been leaving. Quicker too. It was only a few hours until things began to look familiar.

The morning progressed into noon and the chilly air grew pleasantly warm. Clarke wondered if they’d been sent down during the summer season. The weather fit well enough, from what she had read and the temperature had been steady since their arrival. She liked the idea of the seasons and temperatures that changed with them. It was all the more proof that they were in a natural environment. Still, as she subtly pulled away the cloth where sweat had made her clothes cling to her skin she had no idea what they would do if the weather got any hotter and they had no source of drinkable water— at least one without river snakes. Just another issue she’d have to deal with later.

Octavia lagged behind with her, watching as Perry and Jasper moved ahead, chatting while Alison limped behind them. “My head is like… killing me,” she mumbled. Clarke looked at her before she gently took Octavia’s face between her hands to look at her injury. Bruised, and inflamed, healing. She’d have to take the stitching out soon before it healed over them.

“I can imagine. But you’ll be okay. The human body has a remarkable ability to heal itself. Do you want some pain killers?”

“And be like, the last person to use up what we have?” she shook her head. “I’ll pass thanks.”

“Okay,” she said softly and they continued walking. “So, I’m curious. Where did you learn how to hunt, and… you know that stuff with the rabbit?”

Octavia shrugged and fell in step besides her. “My dad, before he passed away. He was a survivalist junkie. You know, the type that would prepare for the end of the world. Stocking food and learning basic primal needs. He was so insistent that I at least know how to build a fire.” She shook her head, but smiled.

“Good for him. It’s pretty handy. You’ll have to teach me some stuff.”

“Handy? Nah, It’s just lucky I like to set things on fire.” Octavia smirked and then winked at her.

Clarke laughed and shook her head. “Let’s save the fire setting strictly to the camping pits when you teach me, okay?”

“What do I get out of that?”  Octavia snorted.

“What? My company isn’t enough? Now that’s hurtful,” Clarke huffed and nudged her shoulder into her. She didn’t bite. “Okay, What do you want?”

“What’s your ability?” Okay, that was somewhat surprising. Didn’t she know that it was considered rude to ask about that? At least in the way that she did? It was like asking someone about their virginity, which was only something that the boys around her age, or maybe a little younger, did.

“I don’t think ability stuff is a conversation before a first date, Octavia.”

“Doesn’t last night count as a date?” She teased.

“What? No kiss good night? You’re bad at the dating thing.” Clarke sneered.

Octavia laughed and rolled her eyes. “Right, I’ll do better next time” They fell into an uncomfortable silence before she tried again. “So, you’re not going to tell me?”

“It’s nothing special. I… it’s lame.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Clarke sighed through her nose. “Light and shadows.”

“Light and shadows?” Octavia echoed.

“I can manipulate light and shadows. Nothing too great, but if I do it around myself I can blend into areas without being seen.” she paused.  “A good trick to have when sneaking in after curfew.”  

Octavia nodded. “Can’t tell you how many times that would have helped me.”

“Sneaking out to meet a boyfriend? Breaking hearts?”

“Haha, funny you are.” She adjusted the shoulder strap of her makeshift quiver with its single arrow. “You’ll be happy to know, or… I don’t know maybe? But we’re on the same playing field.” she said and Clarke smiled at the way she grinned. But before she could say anything, the other girl suddenly whirled around, reaching back to cover her mouth. “Did you hear that?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and shook her head. Really? Did she really think she was going to fall for her little joke of _‘Did you hear that?’_ and then she would say _‘no’_ and Octavia would pretend there was something out there just to frighten her and end up scaring her herself. Yeah right was she going to fall for that.

She removed the hand against her mouth and frowned. “Octavia–”

“Shh! Listen…”

She listened. While the fading voices of the others finally disappeared, all that was left was the silence. “Octavia I don’t–” And then a deep sound came somewhere from beyond the trees. A sound much like a groan.

“What the hell was that?” She whispered.

Clarke shook her head, “I dunno, but…” she paused and she heard it again. “It came from over here.” She turned and jogged off toward the direction of the sound. Just beyond a thicket where the trees grew closely together around part of the clearing. It was darker here, the area was mostly shadows. She heard the groan again, louder this time and clearly in pain. She squinted until her eyes focused and then widened at what was there: a boy was lying on the ground, at the base of a tree. Probably thrown from the ship during the crash. She approached slowly. She knelt beside him, wiped her mouth and looked down at the long metal shard that stuck out from his stomach, wondering how had he survived this long. Why hadn’t anyone found them when or if they’d been exploring?

“I can’t believe it… he’s alive?” Octavia asked.

“Remarkably,” Clarke said quietly. Octavia went to her knees besides her. She met her gaze before she looked down at the rest of him. His arm was bent beneath him at an unnatural angle and the grass beneath him was stained a muddy red, as was the area around his wound.

“What do we do?” Octavia sounded nervous.

“Here, help me, I need to see something.” Octavia helped her turn him on his side and found there was no exit wound. Which meant that the shard didn’t pierce entirely through. She’d hoped that it had missed his internal organs. What could she do if he was bleeding internally? Gods, what would she do if she removed it and he bled out?

“What do we do?” Octavia repeated. They’d eased him on to his back again and he let out a pained sound.

“I need to get this,” she hesitantly motioned towards the shard, “out of him.”

“And you can’t just pull it out?”

“If I wanted him to possibly bleed to death, then sure. But since I don’t, pulling it out won’t do any good. Not until I can stop the bleeding that’ll happen and close the wound. Until then. He’ll be fine, as fine as he can be,” she said. “It’s the possible infections  that I’m worried about. I need more medication.” Clarke shook her head. “Octavia go get Perry and Jasper, and hurry. We need to get him back to our tent.” She told her. Octavia was gone in an instant. Clarke looked at the boy, then to his wound and back again. “What am I going to do about this?”

“That bad huh?” the voice startled her, but she tried her best not to let it show. _He conscious?_ She bit her bottom lip and felt the sting at the back of her eyes.

 ** _“Bad? Bad doesn't even begin to cover it. It’s severe, atrocious, gross and utterly hopeless. You can’t help him, Clarke._** The voice— which always sounded like Dr. Lahari one of her previous mentors— made itself known in the back of her head. ** _You can’t help him._** It repeated. **_You’re not your mother._** She nodded before she forced a smile. “You’re okay, everything is going to be okay.” she used a tone that promised things weren’t as bad as they seemed. But did she believe that? She didn’t know. She had seen injuries far worse than this up on the Ark, but that was the problem, they weren’t up on the Ark with everything that she could have possibly need. They were on the goddamned ground and suddenly it wasn’t as impressive as it had been last night.  “Can you tell me your name?”

“Jacob,” he said through clenched teeth and quick breaths.

“Hi Jacob, I’m Clarke. Your arm is broken and...” she paused, looking down towards the shard. “How are you feeling?” Well that was a stupid thing to ask.

“Like, maybe there's a shard of metal in my stomach? Oh wait,” he gave a groanful chuckle. “There is. So again, is it bad?”

“It’s not good. Imagine the worst thing that's happened to you and times that by ten.”

“So worse than a broken heart? Well shit,” he grinned at her and Clarke felt a pang in her chest. It was utterly amazing how alert he was. Even if he was making bad puns.

“Jacob, this shard... It’s killing you or it _will_ kill you, I’m not sure.” she said bluntly, “If I don’t remove it soon…” her voice trailed away as she looked away from him. “But…”

“But there's not enough medication. I heard.” he said with almost an amused tone in his voice. “Figures… Just get on with it then.”

“I can’t. It’s also the only thing keeping you from bleeding out at the moment.” She said. She heard running steps and was relieved when Octavia finally returned with Perry and Jasper. Perry dropped to his knees besides her. His gaze met hers just as Octavia’s had as he looked down at the wound. His lips moved, mouthing soundlessly, _' Is he gonna make it?'_

She nodded. “We need to move him, carefully. How far do you think it is to camp?”

“A mile maybe?”

“Can you carry him that far?”

“Yeah, yeah. Here, Jasper grab his legs.” Perry said quickly. Clarke stepped out of their way while Jasper did as ordered. Carefully they lifted Jacob together.

She didn’t remember much of the way back. In her head she ran over a list of things she would need and where she would get them and swore because having the medical kit would make this so much easier, and before she knew it they were crossing the treeline of their camp. “They’re back!” someone shouted. “And they found someone!” She felt herself being pulled out of the way. Two boys rushed over to help carry Jacob further inside. Somewhere along the way he had lost consciousness and a small part of her worried, fearing that maybe he’d died as they moved him.

“Set him up in our tent,” Clarke told them. She turned to Octavia and asked “Do you still have my knife?” and when the girl nodded she pushed her after the boys. “Go with them. Cut off his shirt and take this,” She handed Octavia her pack. “Use the water to clean away the blood around the wound, I’ll need as much visibility as I can get, just like I showed you.” Octavia nodded and as she went she grabbed another girl by the arm as she jumped out of Octavia’s way. “What’s your name?”

The girl looked at her startled before she seemed to register the question and said, “Sarah.”

“Okay, Sarah I need to to find me any cloth you can, get whatever spare clothing we have and as clean as possible. I’ll need alo–”

“Clarke, you got a minute?” Wells called. She turned and found him coming up her rear, a calm look on his face. Had he not seen what was happening? When she didn’t say anything he continued. “While you were gone I continued to look for our suppli–”

She sighed over him. “Did you find the medical kit?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry, but I made an inventory of stuff we could use and I tried my hand at making them. Come look. I think you’ll be wowed beyond belief.”

“Wells I don’t have time for this. We found one of our people and I have to treat him right now.” If he had heard her he made no indication of doing so. She wondered just for a moment what the hell was going on in his head as he made a quick turn and set a fast pace towards her tent.

Clarke looked at Sarah. “Go find Murphy, tell him I need him and bring me that cloth. ” she told her. She hurried and fell in stride alongside Wells. When they got to her tent, the first thing she noticed was another one placed besides it. It was smaller but still slightly bigger than the others.

“I hope you don’t mind. We had a tent set up for you and Octavia.”

“Octavia and I already have a tent.”

“The bigger one should be used for medical emergencies,” he told her. She couldn’t argue with that. When they stepped inside a shirtless and sweaty Perry was standing in the center of it. He looked up and motioned his head over his shoulder. She looked over to where Jacob had been placed upon a bed of sheet made of parachute parts and looked back again. Wells disappeared into the corner of the tent.

“As handsome as you are Perry, you’re not the thing I’m supposed to be _‘wowed’_ by, are you?” She arched a brow as he shook his head and then shrugged. Wells returned and he tossed a sack at her.

“Check inside.” Well grinned. Clarke got on her knees and dumped the contents of the sack all over the ground and she blinked. Wowed beyond belief? No, but maybe a little impressed. Scattered on the floor were supplies she hadn’t thought she’d see so soon: Real bandages, bottled water with the seals intact and some type of gauze. The container was actually plastic. There even appeared to be basic field-obtained antiseptics: probably made from whatever plantlife Wells found.

“You made all this?” Clarke asked. How had he made time?

“Yeah, it’s specially tailored to Clarke-standards.” He crouched down besides her and pointed. “We found some of the bandages from the forest and the water hasn’t been open. I figured it came from some other pack or something. I got a few guys looking for more.”

She nodded. She opened the contents of the antiseptics and smelled it, it was strong and overpowering. A very welcomed scent. It would have been perfect to use on Alison’s leg, but the quantity was poor: enough for a single use. Maybe two. Jacob needed it more.

“Also found some hard wire and pieced together some of the parachutes for a carry-on sack. We’ll take it when we take a bigger hunting grou–”

“You're a genius.” Clarke laughed. Wells hadn’t changed a single bit in this aspect. He had always been this way, one step ahead when she was just barely catching up with what was needed. Of course why should it be different on the ground? “You always were though.” She looked up at him. “I think you just helped me save Jacob.” Wells smiled at her and she moved away from him over to where Jacob lay. She checked his pulse first, lifting his hand to her chest as she glanced down at her watch. “His pulse is a little fast…”  

“How bad is it?” asked Perry.

“I’ve seen worse.” She admitted. Mecha Station injuries had been a frequent part of her internship, before the confinement; She had assisted with broken bones, head injuries, severe burns, even a surgical extraction after one mechanic impaled himself on his tools. This was almost the same. “I want to get some medication in him as soon as possible. Where's Octavia?” she frowned when there was no sight of the girl, although Octavia seemed to have quickly done as she was asked. Jacob's shirt was cut and pulled open, and the wound around it was somewhat cleaned. Stained in various areas but cleaned all the same.

“She said she needed some hot water. Something about crushing pills and–"

“Having him drink it.”Clarke finished and nodded. “That's not a bad idea.”

“I can’t believe he survived this. What do we do first, boss? ” he asked. She didn’t answer. As she continued to stare down at the shard her entire stomach twisted. She wanted nothing more than to get the damned thing out of his stomach. She preferred to do that over anything else, but where would that have left her? A devastating blood flow that she wouldn’t be able to stop? At least not until Sarah returned with Murphy and hopefully, to whatever god was above, with more medication. Until then she had to make a more reasonable choice: setting his arm would be far less dangerous.

“Let’s take care of this arm first. I need you to hold him tight for me so I can set it.”

“Roger, Boss.” Perry gripped his shoulders. As she steadied her grip on his arm, Clarke felt where the bone was broken and out of place. ‘Just what the poor guy needs. Hasn’t he been through enough without this problem too?’ She thought. As Jacob began to stir, She sucked in a breath and she quickly forced his arm back toward a more natural position. She felt the snap and Jacob jerked away, roaring with pain. Perry almost sat on him to keep him from flailing and, thankfully, just as suddenly as it began it was over and he fell silent again. Out like a lamp.

When they were done with his arm, Clarke wrapped it with a splint and sat back. She was somewhat relieved that he’d passed out. It would make the next part easier, at least a little. She just needed Sarah to—

“—Clarke? I got th– Oh my god…” Sarah gasped. Clarke looked at her, arms full of clothing and eyes wide. “I-is he… alive?”

“Yes. Did you find Murphy?”

Sarah shook her head. “He’s out hunting with a couple of guys, but Atom gave me these.” Sarah had a pill bottle which she handed to her before piling the clothes  nearby.

Instantly, Clarke looked into the bottle, more antibiotics. Perfect! “Thank you, Sarah.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Yes, actually there is.” Clarke looked around for her pack, found it and reached inside for the brew, she took it and used it on her hands before she handed it to Sarah who did the same and then Perry. After that was done, she poured a small portion of it into the Canteens cap and placed her sewing needle inside. She laid several strips of cloth at her side, then used her lighter to finish sanitizing the needle after she’d counted a full fifteen seconds. Lastly she set aside a couple of bottled waters and uncapped them for easier access. All set. “This next part is the hard part… but it should be easier now that he’s out cold.” She looked at Perry, “I need you to keep him completely still while I pull the shard out. After that,” she looked to Sarah, “When it’s out there’ll be a lot of blood. You’re going to press down with as much pressure as you can to stop the bleeding so I can clean the wound and stitch it. Got that?”

“Okay,” Sarah nodded. She had to say she was impressed with how well this girl was taking the entire situation.

Wells stepped forward, “Clarke can I do anything?” He asked. She didn’t look at him and shook her head. “Just stay back. Wells.”

“You, uh… you ever do something like this before, Boss?” Perry asked. He settled himself beside Jacob this time.

“Once.” she admitted, “but I was only helping my mother.”

“And… how do you know he’s not going to wake up when you yank it out?”

Clarke shook her head and frowned. “I don’t. I can only hope he doesn't. It's very unlikely that he will…”

“But?”

“But if it does, that’s why I need you to hold him down. If we don’t do this right we could cause more harm than good.” She told him. He nodded and he placed both hands on Jacob's shoulders while Sarah readied herself with several clothes in hand. Clarke rose onto her knees and grabbed hold of the shard as tightly as she could between her thumbs and forefingers.  She counted. “One…. Two…” and with a final glance to both Sarah and Perry, she pulled it out as quickly as she could. There was some resistance, she was sure she tore away more flesh than she meant to and when it was out blood splurted from the wound, an extremely heavy flow. She was thankful that Sarah acted quickly, balling up a shirt and pressing it to the bleeding area. It took several minutes for the bleeding to stop. And when it had Clarke went straight to carefully cleaning the wound. Perry collapsed backwards with a sigh when she finally gave word he could let go.

“I don’t think I could have ever made it as a doctor boss…”

“You both did fine. Thank you.” Clarke said quietly. She finished cleaning the wound some minutes later and tossed aside the bloodied cloth. After that she reach into her back pocket and withdrew both her lighter and sewing kit. After sanitizing she began stitching up the wound and sighed. At least the hard part was over.

“Hey, how’s he doing?”

Clarke looked up from where she sat with Sarah, both of them watching over Jacob. The other girl had just finished telling her about how she’d wanted to be a doctor and how being arrested had ruined that. “Where have you been? I was beginning to think you abandoned me.” She said, stretching a little. They’d been sitting for over half an hour.

Octavia snorted and moved to the other side of Jacob with a new canteen in her hands, a shorter and rounder one. “I made you a brew for him. My mom used to do it when I was little. She always put medicine in something to drink, like warm tea. I kind of used to have a problem when it came to swallowing pills.”

“Where did you get tea?” Clarke asked. Octavia arched a brow and she shook her head. “Nevermind. Perry told me earlier where you went. It’s a good idea. I’m glad I can rely on you to think outside the box.” she told her. Octavia smiled slightly.

“So, he’s okay now?”

“Okay is a stretch… He’s stable for now.”

“But is he gonna make it?”

“I hope so,”. She looked down towards Jacob when he gave a weak moan. “The hard part is over. Now we just have to wait. The antiseptics should help with any infections. So will the antibiotics.”

“What if he dies?” Sarah asked.

“Then I’m not as good a doctor as my mother is.” It was true whether he survived or not. Her mother would have worked faster, made better sutures in her stitching, and, she looked down at her hands. Her mother wouldn’t have had trembling hands.  

“Well you did better than anyone else here could have.” Octavia mumbled. Clarke almost smiled.

“And I bet your mom isn’t as hot of a doctor as you,” Sarah said. The comment was so random, both Clarke and Octavia looked at her. She was teasing, Clarke knew that by the way the other girl smiled, and she couldn’t help but notice how cute she was when she did. But to make a odd joke like that? She really went that extra mile to ease the tension. She could certainly say that her mother never had that issue in the operating room. She smiled though.

“Hey… I get first dibs on Clarke.” Octavia frowned. “Get in line.”

“First is the worst.” Sarah stuck her tongue out.

“What are you a kid?”

“Says the girl who say’s _‘I get first dibs’.”_

“Everyone know’s head injuries are first in line for _anything._ ” She motioned to her head.

“Well, I like totally ran into a tree this morning. Guess I’m next then.” Sarah grinned. She was plucking at Octavia’s nerves and Clarke could have sworn the temperature rose. Just as it had the first night on the ground and she kicked over that boy.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But I’m still the one who gets to go to bed with her at the end of the day,” she winked.

“Come on ladies, now is not the time for this,” Wells cut in. Clarke would have been grateful for his authoritative tone if she wasn’t annoyed with him standing and staring, watching her every move. Especially while she had been working on Jacob. They each frowned, almost like a pair of children. “What are we going to do Clar—”

“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt,” Perry cleared his throat as he peeked inside the tent. He’d left not long after they’d finished with Jacob. Another boy from Mecha station came and claimed they’d found part of the communication system and Perry couldn’t have gotten out of the tent fast enough. “I got a better look at what my boys found.”

“Go on.” Wells told him, as if Perry had been waiting for permission.

Perry nodded but he looked at Clarke. “Part of the communication system we found is still intact, mostly, but there are a lot of fried wires. It’s a mess and I don’t know what of it is going to be repairable.”

“You’re a mechanic?” Well’s asked with disbelief.

“Don’t act so surprised, young Prince. Might break my pride,” Perry grinned.

Wells snorted. “You’re just the last person I expected to be a mechanic.”

“Because of my dashing good looks?”

Clarke snorted this time. “Because of your lack of crude behavior and attitude.”

“I'll give you that.” Perry chuckled. “But hey, I’m good at my job.”

“Good? As in you actually know what you’re doing?” Wells folded his arms and took that stupid guardsman stance.

Perry feigned a look of hurt. He brought his hand up to his forehead, like he was going to faint. “Oh the doubt!” He gave a confident smirk and puffed his chest out. “You should know that I was taught by the most badass and youngest Zero-G Mechanic we got up there on the Ark.”

“Raven Reyes?” Wells asked. Clarke stared in surprise.

 _He knows about this Raven girl?_ She thought. Though it should have come to no surprise to her. Wells knew just about anyone who excelled in a skill and had categorized them into a list. Still, it would be something to bring up later.

“Yup! The one and only, good sir.”

“Then you’ve got to have some kind of skill.” Wells admitted slowly. Perry looked at him and his face turned a shade of pink as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, before he lit up into a proud smile and nodded. “I can’t really say I’ve heard about you in Mecha station though.” Wells added. She wondered if it was just out of spite.

Perry shrugged. “You from Mecha?” Wells shook his head. “So, between the two of us, I’m the only one who knows the difference between a wrench or a pair of pliers. So I guess you’ll just have to take the words of a dashingly handsome fella. Right, pretty boy?”

“You think I’m pretty?” Wells made a face. “Can’t say you’re my type.”

“Oh yeah,” Perry nodded again, rocking on the balls of  his feet. “I’m real big on the pretty ones. Sure I’d perfer gorgeous like the Boss here. But you’re not bad to look at either.” he winked.

“Like she’d give you the time of day?” Wells snorted. It was as if Clarke were no longer there. What was it with people claiming her? Not that either one of them had much of a chance. And they both knew that, so why were they even having this annoying back and forth?

“More then I’d say she’d give you.” She heard Perry retort.

“You don’t know what your talking about. You’re not even her type.”

“Doesn’t mean I still can’t be her knight in shiny mecha armour, coming to rescue her on the back of an iron steed. While you clean up after it.” Perry grinned.

“Really? Guys?” Clarke interrupted just as Wells opened his mouth. “First of all Octavia is the only one here who has any chance and second put it away.” The words were out of her mouth before she even registered them. She was probably blushing now.

The brunette touched a hand to her heart and swooned. “Aw, you do care,” she purred.

Clarke shot her a look and turned back to Perry. “What can you do? Can you fix anything that’s broken?”

“With the right replacements, I can fix anything that isn’t severely damaged. I could probably make a radio if I can make use of the wiring, but I still need my black box.” Perry said seriously.

“And that brings us back to my point.” Wells began. She was beginning to hate the way her name sounded when he said it. “We need those supplies… not just the medical supplies, but mechanical as well. We need to get to Mount Weather. The sooner the better.”

“And your plan is to wander aimlessly, while people are still hurt? While Jacob is like this?” She motioned to him. Wells didn’t even bother to look. He just stared at her, as though it would sway her decision. “I won’t do that Wells. Mount weather can wait. We’re not leaving anyone behind.” She turned her attention back to the sleeping boy. “It’s not even safe to move him right now.” She folded her arms across her chest, her fist clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Clarke be reasonable.” Wells sighed. “What if we find more of our people injured like him? How are you going to keep helping them when you run out of medication? I mean you’ve already gone through most of the supplies I made. I don’t care how talented you are, you can’t help all of them if you don’t have the supplies or the equipment. Now, even with–”

“Hey back off!” Octavia growled. “Clarke’s doing the best she can, which is more than we can say about you.”

“And eventually her best won't be enough.” Wells said without hesitation. He didn’t even look at her.

“Her best is working just fine for us right now. And now is what matters.” Perry said.

“I agree.” Sarah added. “With the both of you. Right now field treatment is all we have to go on, and it’s better than nothing. But that’s only a temporary solution and–”

“Can we not do this here?” Clarke sighed.

“No, we have to. You’ve been ignoring the issue since we crashed.”

She looked at him and frowned. Was that really what he’d thought? “I have been busy since we crashed.”

“Taking walks in the forest isn’t helping us survive.”

“Taking walks…” She stood carefully. “Is that what you think we did? Left to go explore? We were looking for our supplies, Wells.”

“And you didn’t find anything. Look around, Clarke. I’m the one gathering everything and having supplies made to help _you_ . I’m the one taking hunting groups out so _we_ don’t starve. Do you know how many of us ate last night? Not enough. While you’re off sightseeing,  I was making sure our people are warm at night. I’m–”

“We’ve only been on the ground for 2 days, barely, and already you have this high and mighty attitude?” Clarke snorted and she narrowed her eyes. The old Wells would have never spoke to her the way he’d just had. How much had he changed in a year? “If you don’t like the way things are, then you can go ahead on your own. But Jacob can’t move. And I’ll be damned if I’m leaving him because you have no patience.”

“Clarke…” Wells sighed heavily, suddenly looking exhausted. He opened his mouth again, but she was done listening to him. She looked down at Jacob; he was still out cold after all that. Good.

She looked at Octavia, then to Sarah. “We’ll work in shifts to watch over him. Say, 3 hours each?”

“Sure thing…” Sarah smiled. “I’ll take first shift.”

“I’ll take second.” Octavia said. She was glaring at Wells, who tried to step forward only to be blocked by the shorter girl. Thankful, Clarke turned to Perry last.

“Go do your thing. Do whatever you need to do. Come find me if anything changes.” She told him and then she turned and left without waiting for his reply.

When she entered her new tent, she flopped down on what she assumed were bedrolls and laid on her back. She threw an arm over her eyes, and sighed. Saving Jacob had been a lot harder than she thought, but it wasn’t what weighed her down. Outside as she listened to the chattering voices of their people, she knew that Wells was right. Jacob was hurt badly. Every day Jacob survived right now would be a miracle. As much as she hated to admit it, Wells was right. They had to get to Mount weather. And they would have to leave people behind to do it. She could only try to make that number as low as she could.

* * *

 

_Days on Earth: 2_

_Numbers of Survivors: 50_

_Missing: 50_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes I missed. Sorry it's kinda long too. haha. Next chapter soon! Comment and leave me yummy kudos. Nom nom.


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